Weapon
by LadyTaiyo
Summary: The war against Lord Voldemort was just one small piece of something much bigger. There is far more to The Dark Lord and his protégée than meets the eye and the wizarding world is not what it seems. The man behind the monster is unraveled and his secrets bring to light a conflict centuries in the making.
1. Chapter 1

**_Here is the beginning of the Voldemort x Bellatrix story that I mentioned on my profile months ago. I think that this story is going to end up being the most unique plot for the pairing. So if you are unsure what is going on please hang in there, it probably won't make perfect sense until the end. Sometimes it will be very dark, sometimes it will be very lighthearted, like life there are extreme ups and downs. I'm so happy to finally be getting this written, I tried to make the story I would want to read, I love it very much._**

**_I always put a song to each chapter, sometimes to if it is very long. The first one is:_**

**_"Because of Me" by Seether_**

**_One last thing, All titles are in Hindi, this also, will make sense shortly._**

* * *

**_Weapon, Chapter One: Mamale ki Sacca i', The Truth of the Matter _**

There was fog, swirling, too warm, dense as water. It pressed hard against his wide open eyes as it held him to the bottom, he gasped and choked on it, it surged into his lungs. His whole body ached and seared alternately skin, muscle, his very skeleton screamed out in pain. He bade it back in the way that only one practiced in compartmentalizing could and tried to gather his thoughts, as they whizzed about his head like stray firecrackers, into some loose semblance of order.

Beneath him and unseen surface vibrated in the unmistakable cadence of footsteps, the feather soft resonation grated against his skull and suddenly he knew who was coming.

His thin mouth tipped up at one of the corners with no humor to be had and he tilted his head back a little to speak "You win".

The other person did not respond but an old, time weathered hand extended to him and with nothing to lose he reached up and grasped it.

There was a tired huff from somewhere currently too high over head to contemplate and then suddenly he was being hauled to his feet. He did not consciously make the decision to stand, but his mind sent the impulses to his body and his muscles complied with a shriek of white hot agony that nearly sent him back into blackness.

Pathetically, he drew a slow, shuddering breath and battled to remain upright.

"What cured you?", his unlikely aid asked and he barred his teeth at the hated voice.

"Dumbledore", he bit out, "Come to throw it in my face?"

The old man shook his head and had the gall to smile at him, "No".

"Then what do you want?" he dead panned, not in the mood for the phsycotherapy session that always seemed to be part of his encounters with the elderly wizard.

"I should think that what you want would be a more appropriate question to be asking".

As unlikely as the notion sounded he was almost never pushed to the point of muggle violence but at that moment he had never wanted to punch someone so badly.

Instead he snorted derisively, "Fool. Do I look like I Know?"

Dumbeldore frowned momentarily and shook his head, "You must, else you wouldn't be human again".

Ah-the whole limbo snag, leave it to the old man to drag that up, "But of course," he snarled, fighting for control of his emotions, "Clearly I am the residing expert in both matters of the soul and the after life as you have so kindly pointed out upon many occasions".

"Enough Tom, We no longer have any dispute between us, I'm a guide for those that pass through this place, nothing more".

A question he would swear did not exist burned on his tongue, it tasted curiously of shame, he tugged pensively at the the sleeve of his robes and said nothing.

"She came through", the ex-teacher told him pointedly.

His shoulders drew ridged , "What on earth are you referring to old man?".

Watery grey eyes pierced him and their owner looked displeased "When will you stop deluding yourself, I've never understood that part of you. I've seen far less clever men than you chase truth to the ends of the earth but you never heard that particular sirens call. So I search for the cause that drives you but find none. There are many that would say you live by no morals but we both recognize that you do. Your code of ethics is so far separated from those of society that it is almost impossible to decipher. On what foundation to you build those regulations?"

He did not have the patience for this, he needed to get out of here..."Speak plainly", he said, voice harsh as he could effectively pitch it.

"She asked about you", Dumbledore lowered his voice to a conspirational murmur, "I could hardly get her to tell me what happened, she was so very preoccupied with it".

_This_, he sighed heavily, this was the last thing he wanted to discuss with the old man. Nevertheless the promise of explanation was not something he would pass up.

"Tell me then, _old friend_, what was behind that mess?", Why hadn't she said _something_? "_Obvious__ly_ I was not a suitable confidant. After all, _the matter hardly concerned me_", he finished bitterly.

"Could you truly fault her?", Dumbledore replied skeptically.

"I had a right to be informed, the obvious reason aside, as her commander I wouldn't have sent her into battle that way!" he protested.

"Wouldn't you?", the old man queried.

"Damn it old fool, you claim to know me. Did I not leave Malfoy's family intact for as long as circumstances permitted me to? Did I not always send the Carrows as a pair? I did not separate blood merely for it's own sake!", he wasn't blind to the bonds the kin forged among his ranks, "In the end I kept her with Narcissa near constantly, lot of good that accomplished. Now, if you intend to share what she said then do so", he drew weary breath, "and if you plan to deny me that be done with it".

"I hardly think it is my right to divulge this", the head master told him solemnly, he nodded similarly and turned to go, "However, given your situation I doubt it could do any harm now. Come, walk with me and I will tell you".

He offered a curt, "Thank you".

He slid into step beside the man he hated more than anyone else and began the most profoundly personal and uncomfortable discussion of his existence...

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**_How was the prologue? Confused yet? Review and let me know. : )_**


	2. Chapter 2

**_This chapter should start to clear up a few things, warning, kiddies beware. A few things I want to explain:_**

**_Dumbledore is viewing Voldemort's memories via legilemency._**

**_Sai are weapons originated in japan, if you have ever seen the movie Daredevil they are what Elektra is using for most of the film._**

**_Yes, they did._**

**_"I Wish I had an Angel" by Nightwish._**

**_I don't ordinarily post lyrics but the song was so perfect that I just have to._**

_Deep into a dying day_

_I took a step outside an innocent heart_

_Prepare to hate me_

_Fall when I may_

_This night will hurt you like never before_

_Old loves, they die hard_

_Old lies, they die harder_

_I wish I had an angel _

_For one moment of love_

_I wish I had your angel_

_Your virgin mary undone_

_I'm in love with my lust_

_Burning angel wings to dust_

_I wish I had your angel tonight_

_I'm going down so frail and cruel_

_Drunken disguise changes all of the rules_

_Old loves, they die hard_

_Old lies, they die harder_

_I wish I had an angel_

_For one moment of love_

_I wish I had your angel_

_Your virgin mary undone_

_I'm in love with my lust_

_Burning angel wings to dust_

_I wish I had your angel tonight_

_Greatest thrill_

_Not to kill_

_But to have _

_The prize of the night_

_Hypocrite_

_Want to be friend_

_Thirteenth disciple _

_Who betrayed me for nothing_

_Last dance_

_First kiss_

_Your touch_

_My bliss_

_Beauty always comes with dark thoughts_

_I wish I had an angel_

_For one moment of love_

_I wish I had your angel_

_Your virgin mary undone_

_I'm in love with my lust_

_Burning angel wings to dust_

_I wish I had your angel tonight_

**_I strongly recommend listening to the song_**

**_I do not own Harry Potter_**

* * *

**_Weapon, Chapter Two: Tabahi', The Catastrophe_**

It was intensely, painfully, awkward. That was the only appropriate word that could be used, he felt like a teenager caught in some great wrongdoing.

It certainly did not help that the old man continued to look at him with knowing, and slightly disapproving eyes. He wanted to fight, to defend himself from the accusation those looks proclaimed, to simply throw his hands into the air and scream_ "How was I to know?"_.

He actually had opened his mouth to rebuttle the silent slander when Dumbledore turned to him and asked, "Care to share you version of events before we delve into Bellatrix's memories".

He blinked,_ "would it actually matter?_", was the unasked question.

He huffed impatiently, "I was caught off guard, did the only thing I thought would remedy the situation, and discovered after it was too late that I had severely miscalculated the consequences", the words came out in one single, dispassionate rush.

Again he was gazed at as if he were a misbehaving child, or perhaps a particularly thick skulled pupil who was not grasping a concept, "Surely there was more to it than that?", he pressed.

At this point his own loathing of what had transpired took over, "Oh!", he spoke with scathing, pretentious enthusiasm, "I almost forgot, I followed your advice, fool that I was I actually _trusted someone not to lie to me_. Look where that has landed me!", his voice steadily rose through out the phrase and by the end he was border-line shouting.

It was Dumbledore's turn to sigh, "Forgive me Tom", the old man intoned, "Perhaps it would be easier for me to simply examine your thoughts directly, I can see that this is difficult for you".

_Oh, the old teacher was good_, if he declined then he would quite obviously be to afraid to allow for such a thing and if he accepted then Dumbledore would be at liberty to examine his every thought. Truly the better course of action was to allow the intrusion, it was the more certain route to the answers he sought...

He braced himself, "Do what you will", he replied with as great an air of detachment as he could muster.

Dumbledore did not hesitate and at once he was being dragged down, into memories of the night he so longed to forget...

_"Miss Bellatrix requests an audience with you, My Lord" Wormtail had called to him, at his position seated beside the window at the far end of the large sitting room._

_He did not even spare a glance toward the door merely nodded, too lost in thought to pay much attention._

_"My Lord", a low female voice murmured, all velvet and terrible secrets, it could easily take one aback but he had long since grown accustomed to the rich, almost accented speech pattern._

_He still did not look up, "You are dismissed Wormtail"..._

_"Sir?", the little man questioned hesitantly..._

_His voice sharpened, "You are dismissed **now**, Wormtail", he clarified. _

_His portly servant tripped over himself in his haste to leave the room and he found himself displeased when it did not draw the laughter he had been expecting from across the cavernous room. Only at that point did he look up, "Bella", he acknowledged quietly. _

_She bowed contritely and observed the usual formalities and those few simple gestures were enough to blare warning to him, something was very wrong with her. _

_She and Rodolphus had been declared recovered from Azkaban months ago and yet as she extended her neck her skin drew taught over her skeleton and he could easily have counted the vertebrae that made up her spine through the pale gray fabric of a silken kimono she donned often in the evening._

_She rose and allowed her eyes to come to rest on his face and he examined hers with shock that felt like being submerged in frigid water. Her hair, which had been piled carelessly at the crown of her head and secured, was streaked with gray, her face ashen and gaunt, her un rouged lips dry and cracked and her eyes were shadowed deeply despite the absence of the kohl that usually adorned them, how many years had it been since she had shown her face in it's unembelished state, certainly not after her imprisonment..._

_She drew a rough, wheeze of a breath and spoke again, "Permission to approach you?", she requested. _

_He nodded._

_She took the necessary steps required to cross the room, he nearly flinched. _

_Where was the grace, the effortless strength of movement that he had personally seen instilled her before she ever even knew of death eaters?_

_"Permission to speak?", she asked to which he replied, "You have been already, haven't you?", she looked hesitant but none the less knelt demurely at his feet._

_"I would like to apologize to you, foremost, and thank you for your time"._

_"Yes?", he answered, beginning to get impatient._

_"I have a favor to ask of you, you see..."._

_He hissed in soft incredulity, "A favor Bella? After that fiasco at the ministry I should hardly think that you would be in a position to ask anything of me? Such Insolence"._

_She nodded firmly, "I'm aware, which is why I think you will find my wish mutually beneficial..."._

_His brow shot up, and he encouraged her to continue, so utterly unaware. Even now he would swear that he had heard her incorrectly, because she would not ask him to..._

_"Kill me", she breathed, so quietly that she might have been a gust of wind._

_"What?" he had replied numbly, for once at a complete loss for words._

_"Kill me", she repeated, "It will be easy, you're good at it. Raise you wand, Avada Kedavra, please be quick", her countenance contained no trace of humor, she was serious._

_"Bella, this is insanity. Explain yourself, **immediately**", was this what panic felt like?_

_"I can't", she whispered shaking her head, "Please, just do this for me", she was begging now._

_"No", he bit out coldly, "Go back to bed Bella, I'm deploying you in the morning"._

_The atmosphere in the room shifted abruptly, her full lips carved into a wicked smile he had seen many times while on reconnaissance with her, she had worn it often as she tortured their quarry, but never had he been on the receiving end._

_She stood, languidly as her trembling form would allow, "What's this? The Dark Lord gone soft? Afraid to kill one woman? I suppose I can see why, historically that hasn't worked very well for you has it?"._

_His eyes went wide and he was certain he looked as livid as he felt but she wasn't done yet, she leaned her thin body forward and placed both hands on his shoulders, his breath caught, she held herself not a foot above him._

_"Poor Voldemort", she murmured in a falsely sympathetic voice, "Poor Tom Riddle, You never did get your power back did you?", her breath brushed against his ear, the side of his neck, he held back a shiver though he was neither cold nor afraid._

_Then his anger finally broke through and pride surged forward and in an instant he stood and captured her throat with one hand, her pulse fluttered weakly beneath his finger tips, the other hand he used to catch her wrists. He held both firmly, "You will cease", he snarled._

_"Or what?, she rasped, grin never fading, "I've purposely insulted you, we both know the consequences for that. So do it cowa-"._

_"You're transparent Lestrange", he cut her off with harsh words._

_She did not reply, and he released her neck slowly and leaned closer, "Now, you **will** tell me what this nonsense is about", his words came out a command and did not betray the forbidding confusion beneath._

_To his horror her eyes moistened and she shook her head vigorously, he had never known her to cry. Elated, he could handle, unhinged, raving angry he could handle, he was not able to be comfort. It was not in his nature to console and so he simply stood there with his grip on her forearms and waited for the display of emotion to end._

_The tears never even fell and it pleased him that she did not succumb to such pointless action, she watched him with reddened, and dark rimmed eyes that were to proud to let water spill from them._

_He relinquished her arms._

_He tried a different approach, "Tell me?", he entreated to her softly._

_She wore a look like an animal cornered and spoke with a strained voice "I haven't the courage, please, forgive this waste of your time", she backed away from him slowly, "My Lord", she bowed once more and struck him with her refugee thin and frail appearance a final time before she dissaperated._

_She hadn't gone far, he was certain, this was her sister's house. He debated for a moment, trying to decide if he should follow her or not, and if there would be any purpose to it. What could he do, how did he leverage someone who wanted to die?_

_Legilemency would be useless, he never had been able to do more than break the surface when it came to her, she was, easily the most talented occlumens he had ever encountered, himself aside._

_Unbidden a thought took root and wrapped it's tendrils around all others, crushing them, reducing them to dust, so it was all that remained. He struggled with it, tried to push it back, **surely that was not the way**, it surged into his veins, sang in his blood, the poison burned in the organ thundering in his chest._

_It told him of the solution, there was but one thing he could do, he was certain, that would break down those defenses, one thing he could offer that would pay the cost of unlocking her mind._

_He shuddered restlessly where he sat and let the frigid moonlight soothe the flames licking at his skin, it proved worthless and in the end steam rose from where they met and clouded his vision._

_He stood, moved more my the adrenaline pulsing through him than the end beyond the means, he ascended the stairs, following the squared spiral to the fourth, and highest floor where most of the personal rooms were located._

_He passed the master suite where Lucius and Narcissa were already sleeping, he observed the steady, albeit incoherent stream of thoughts that were their dreams before he continued onward._

_He had memorized who occupied what space weeks ago and now he strode easily to the door at the end of the landing, deciding that a less intrusive approach would serve him best, here he rapped once on the door and waited._

_"Go away Narcissa!", came the antagonized voice from inside._

_He turned the knob silently and slipped in to the room._

_Bellatrix lay on the bed at the opposite side of the room, beside the large window, still wrapped in the shimmering slate colored yukata, her back was turned to him._

_The sound of footsteps flared her temper, "I told you Cissy, I'm not going to talk about-"..._

_"Narcissa is asleep, Bella", he informed her in a soft, quiet tone._

_She startled, and twisted upright, her face a mask of surprise "My Lord?"._

_He inclined his head in greeting, and his eyes narrowed as he noticed the black hilted knife in her hands. Their gazes met and she showed him no remorse, so he did not acknowledge the thing's obvious purpose yet and instead went and sat on the edge of the bed beside her, "Isn't that the one I gave you in tibet?", he asked, feeling entirely ridiculous making light conversation with her._

_His eyes traced the feather light, criss-crossed patterns she had made on her wrists. They bled and shined a pretty ruby red in the diffused light of the moon._

_She looked suspicious, but like him she left the writing on the wall unread and despite the gravity of the situation she smiled, "It is. I haven't had it out in ages"._

_He hadn't realized that, "Why?", he inquired, knowing she loved the thing._

_She appeared abashed, "I didn't want it to rust", she muttered._

_"Do you still have the sai?", he inquired, curiosity slightly peaked now._

_She nodded, then laughed, "And the dress"._

_He snorted despite himself, "How could I forget", he sighed melodramatically for her benefit, "What was I thinking, handing you that? Your father nearly cut ties with me after that stunt you know"._

_Again he drew a peal of laughter from her, "My mother, was ready to disown me. I think she said something about improper and disgraceful conduct and flagrant disrespect for both my family and Rodolphus' "_

_"It was somewhat rash", he told her._

_"It sent the message", she replied firmly._

_"At your own wedding?"_

_"Yes"_

_It occurred to him then that he had touched on something that could potentially put a hitch in this plan, "Where is Rodolphus?", he asked, careful to keep his tone light._

_"He took leave to go and visit his parents in Hungary", she shared, her lips parted in confusion._

_He nodded, now that she mentioned it he did recall something about that. That left nothing to lead this encounter off course, his hopes were high that she would cease this sudden desperate desire for death and divulge why she would request such a thing in the first place, all that was required of him was-._

_He came to realize in that moment, that though he understood fully, in theory, what his part was he had no knowledge to draw from as far as the logistics were concerned. No prior experience to speak of that might guide him..._

_That was...problematic...to say the least.._

_He resolved to keep her talking for the moment, he needed to buy himself a little time to work it out..._

_"You didn't want to go?", he knew how she loved to travel._

_She huffed, "I'm not in a state to tolerate my in-laws right now. They can't stand me, they criticize constantly, they try to convince us that we're going about it all wrong and we should really come settle in Budapest with them where I can spend the rest of my days as a model house wife. In the early days that included popping out grand children, but I could never bring myself-, " she trailed off, "I'm too old now anyway"._

_Genuinely surprised he asked, "I thought you were only fifty?", that wasn't very old for a witch._

_She shook her head, "Only fifty **years**, My body...after Azkaban, I aged so much you see...it's too weak" ._

_He hummed quietly in response, he supposed that he could identify with that. _

_He noted her age, fifty, he may be much older than that chronologically, but he had been resurrected to his fifty four year old body, the age discrepancy had at one time been something of a source of grief. He considered, the gap had closed quite a bit..._

_"You didn't want them before?", he inquired, nearly mentally prepared for the task at hand._

_"I did", she said shortly._

_"Then why-?", it would be almost effortless to lead this conversation in the direction he wanted now._

_She chewed her lip, unknowingly providing an explanation as to why her mouth look so abused, "Not with him", she whispered._

_He forced the sense of impending triumph back, she was making this too easy, "Why not?"_

_"I-", her voice broke, "It would have been a lie"._

_He frowned contemplatively, conveying sympathy as best as he could, he thought, perhaps if he were not a wizard he could have been an actor, "How so, Bella?"._

_"You know I never wanted to marry him!", she exclaimed, suddenly angry, "You know what I wanted? Why do you ask what you already have the answer to?"._

_He smiled, she was always sharp, he was not sure how best to answer so he opted for a version of the truth, "Doubtful you would believe me if I told you"._

_She inhaled sharply, "Try me, Master"._

_He breathed once to steady himself and then reached out and delicately pried the blade from her fingers, he set it on her bedside table ._

_When he turned back to her she gasped and he knew she could see his intentions reflected in his eyes now._

_He reached for her, letting his fingers trail lightly down the side of her face, her neck, her collarbone, that was as far as the elegant robe would allow him._

_For her part she merely stared at him disbelieving, "Why?", she whispered weakly._

_He did not respond, instead he watched her face for a reaction as he set to work on the obi that held her clothing in place. He decide then that Azkaban had not taken her great beauty, merely changed it, he remembered training her in the far east, the mountains, the sun._

_A pang of desire tore through him then with all the force of a tidal wave, the poison eroding his veins from the inside finally broke them, it seared him as it pulsed freely through his body, he held back a cry at the exquisite torture. _

_How it hurt, he clung to the feeling. **What was this**, it was burning him, killing him, he kindled it anyway._

_At last the cloth belt fell away, he did not pause to admire and immediately he stripped himself of his own clothing, lifting the robes over his shoulders._

_He did not even have to cross the bed to reach her, she met him in the middle._

_

* * *

_

**I repeat, yes they did.**

**Please review, how was Voldemort's characterization? : )**


	3. Chapter 3

**_The third chapter got so big I had to split it up, this is about a third of what I have written._**

**_I don't think anyone has written a plot quite like this, I'm very hopeful the new angle will be well received._**

**_As for the character of Voldemort please continue to tell me if I am writing him correctly. To me the intrigue lay in that he has so many layers to his personality, I need to know if I have captured that._**

**_So please review._**

**_I do not own Harry Potter._**

**_Fake It by Seether_**

* * *

**_Weapon, Chapter Three: Simita, Bound_**

_He lay tangled in the sheets, breathing still somewhat strained, though his pulse had finally slowed to a bearable rate._

_What on earth had he done?_

_Bella was sleeping soundly beside him, he hadn't even tried to coax answers from her before she drifted off, thinking at all had been entirely out of the question, let alone speaking._

_He had been prepared for any reaction she might have had, he had never had a problem manipulating another's emotions._

_He hadn't been prepared to feel so strange in the aftermath, every nerve ending in his body was raw, but it no longer seemed to belonged to him, he looked at his own unnaturally white skin with new eyes, his existence foreign beneath it._

_The entire process had been surreal, and he would be lying if he said it hadn't been as enjoyable as it was...terrifying._

_And it had been terribly frightening...and yet he hadn't stopped, had not even made the attempt...never in his life had he just ... given in like that..._

_Self loathing welled within him because he knew he would do it again in a heartbeat, he delighted in the fact that he knew,** knew** she would as well._

_**Bellatrix**...he sighed heavily...there was a Pandora's box waiting for him where she was concerned._

_If he had become a stranger to himself she was an alien. So different she seemed, laying there, he could not hear her voice now without hearing the echo of it risen to a delighted keen, the sound reverberating on her breath against his neck. Could not glimpse the slightest flicker of movement without seeing her bare skin glowingly dimly in the unholy gleam of an angel's white lighted radiance, without feeling her naked back arch and flutter beneath his hands._

_And within the confines of his own mind he could admit that this deeply troubled him. If he had been lenient or possessive before, how partial would he be come the dawn? None had ever been foolhardy enough to voice it, but he had heard the accusations, phantom thoughts, extinguished even as they formed for fear of the otherworldly senses he was rumored to possess, his closest followers were not exempt from this. Some deeply resented the apparent favoritism, he would not be subject to any direct antagonization but he knew she was a different story entirely._

_She would never speak the words but he was observant enough to know that she at least cared what her sister and husband thought of her._

_Which lead him to other conflict, Rodolphus._

_Foremost the question was to inform him or not...he was strongly inclined to say not. He could not fathom a way to make that work to his advantage and there was no point in creating unnecessary hostility, it would only hinder his purpose and with what he had planned for the upcoming months there was no margin for error. That aside, if his enemies caught word that he had a weakness for a woman, no matter the extenuating circumstances, his reputation would plummet the world over and she could easily be used against him. He knew what they would say, they would paint him as a lovesick fool._

_Love, he hated the the word, the concept was not loathsome, merely unfamiliar, but those four letters conveyed stupidity, blindness, frivolity. Things he had cut out of his life so long ago he could no longer recall the moment he had banished those notions._

_He did not love her, not by any individual or societal standards...he needed new words to express the manner with which he regarded her, ones that meant he certainly found her presence pleasant most of the time, that he could lower his guard for her (if only a little), that when it came right down to the wire he did not want to see her hurt or distressed..._

_She was...not a mistress, Bellatrix was too strong to be anyone's toy, he wouldn't want her if she were so weak...Not a girlfriend, that word was even worse than love..._

_She was... lovely, intense, loyal, and surprisingly vivacious...but he wouldn't care at all if that were all there was to her...plenty of women were all of those things..._

_She was also prodigiously talented, and clever, and vicious, and occasionally more than the slightest bit psychotic..._

_That was why he could let her get close, even wanted her to...because they were two of a kind... and he felt like less of a **freak** around her... and **god damn it** even he needed that once in a while...even if he was loathe to admit it..._

_They were friends..._

_He didn't want to give her up when the sun rose, she was rare and special, and he desired too keep her close, not hand her over to those less capable individuals he was obligated to share her with...though he knew he must..._

_On the other hand, if he** were** to be selfish...the thought of simply returning her to her husband, of her being anything than incontrovertibly belonging to him, was intolerable._

_He could see no feasible way to go about that, and personal desires aside, Rodolphus served him well, he doubted the excellent work would continue if he were to simply walk up and say "I'll be keeping your wife and you shall receive accolades in return, I trust we have an accord?"._

_He stretched languidly and turned over onto his side to face her, not out of affection but simply for weariness at another person present while he was sleeping and vulnerable._

_He released a small laugh at the sheer novelty of the situation and allowed his eyes to fall closed._

* * *

_He woke to cool, grey light, pouring in from the window they had both neglected to close, it was still very early. He carefully extricated himself from the mess of limbs they had managed to tangle themselves into, taking immense __care not to wake his still unconscious...Lover? Was that she was to him?...How strange..._

_He was not running, he did not stoop so low as to run, from anything._

_He merely saw fit to begin his day now, he truly had been needing to pay a trip to Cairo for too many weeks. The very last thing he needed was for **him **to get involved with his operation._

_He slid himself out from under the sheets and stood, not so much as flinching as the cold january air met his skin, it did not even aspire to hold a candle to the Himalayas at the same time of year._

_He collected his robes from where he had deposited them not eight hours ago and pulled them back over himself, picked up his wand from it's place beside Bella's knife and slipped it into a fold of the smooth black fabric. As an afterthought he dropped the elegant blade into the drawer in the nightstand and closed it tightly, he uttered a quick incantation that he knew would place a lock, nigh unbreakable upon it._

_Satisfied, he turned back to observe Bellatrix, he never had actually spoken with her, though that was the initial objective of the encounter, he belatedly realized that the previous night in it's self left things to be conveyed, he thought for a moment._

_He took a quill and parchment from the desk on the opposite wall and quickly scrawled all he felt was important to say, he considered where to place the note so that it would be found by her and only her, in the end he tapped it once with his wand and left the large, white lotus blossom on the bed next to her. It was not a romantic gesture, she knew as well as he that the flower symbolized genesis and autonomy. It was one of millions of subtle ways he reminded her not to get her hopes up._

_Then he turned and silently left the room, as he did so he payed such great attention to creating as little noise as possible that he did not notice Narcissa approaching and he nearly ran headlong into the woman on the landing._

_Bellatrix' sister gave a muffled yelp and jerked back as if burned._

_For an uncomfortable, long, moment she looked bewildered and then her eyes widened in shocked realization of what had transpired and fixed him with a look equal parts hard and petrified._

_Sensing the impending confrontation he raised a hand between them, a clear indication to remain silent, "We have nothing to discuss", he said smoothly, as he stepped around Mrs. Malfoy he added "Keep an eye on her"._

_Then he dissaperated._

* * *

_"You've failed me for the last time", a low, smooth voice hissed in Arabic._

_"You mistake flexibility for weakness", a higher, raspy voice answered. In the same language but with a decidedly western accent._

_"It has been nearly thirty years Tom!", the first man snarled._

_"And yet you can not wait another three months?", the man named Tom retaliated sharply._

_"Three months you say, but see them become ten years!", the low voiced man spat._

_"You need me", the rough tenor spoke again, tiredly, like he had said the words in too many ways too many times, "Weakened as I am my knowledge surpasses yours and if you kill me now,", a lifeless chuckle, "It dies with me"._

_"What about **her**", the first voice inquired shrewdly, "She will be your successor", he pronounced suddenly._

_"Ah-that wasn't part of the bargain"._

_"You must name someone, Tom. Or have you decided to have children after all?", the base continued to pry._

_Tom merely laughed at him._

_"You are in no position to make light of this. I can void your oath if I wish, if I were you I might show respect toward he who holds your life in his hands"._

_"What do you want?", the rougher voice demanded, all traces of humor had gone._

_"Britain in my grasp by the time that Ceres leaves the sky"._

_"May", a murmur,"Is that all?", the second man quipped dryly._

_"And I want you to make another contract"._

_A sigh._

_"I suspected as much"._

_"Perhaps it will better motivate you"._

_"I have a condition", Tom interjected._

_"Oh?"._

_"She goes free"._

_"She's your apprentice, who would take her place?"._

_"She goes free, and I will have no heirs"._

_"Salzar Slytherin's descendants have belonged to us since the organization's creation", the first man cried furiously._

_"And the bloodline ends with me"._

_"Then you must give me the Black girl"._

_"No"._

_"Do you care nothing for the rest of us?"._

_"I don't"._

_"The Unbreakable Vow then"._

_"Let's be done with it"._

* * *

_The meeting room was noisy, he could scarcely hear his own thoughts above the clamor._

_The atmosphere was jubilant, as it should have been with his recent requisition of the elder wand and his achieving total authority over both the ministry and Hogwarts. He was not easily pleased but we would concede that the amount of success he had been enjoying brought him some small measure of happiness._

_There was but one marked storm cloud amidst the dazzling rays of triumph._

_Bellatrix._

_Her condition had not improved since that night, quite the opposite, it seemed to have deteriorated further. She slept almost constantly and during her waking hours she suffered extreme fatigue. Four weeks prior he had actually pulled her completely from the line of duty, not due to falling capability, (if anything her magic seemed stronger lately), but concerned with the liability she could become in a high stakes scenario, she couldn't seem to get through a day without a fainting spell. She hadn't liked that at all, but she was too incapacitated to argue with him, she had become even more withdrawn after that, she rarely spoke._

_To further aggravate the situation she seemed to ha__ve contracted some variety of illness roughly three weeks ago, she ran a fever around the clock, complained of sudden fits of intense dizziness and nausea, she barely ate anymore, though this seemed to be more for the inability to keep anything down than for actual lack of appetite, when she did take sustenance it was ravenously and she was, unfailingly, sick immediately afterward._

_To top it off she absolutely refused to let anyone near her to examine her, though he noticed that Narcissa, at least, had taken his command to heart, she was never far away from her sister._

_He had tried once more to talk with her and get answers, his efforts proved entirely futile._

_Her thoughts were becoming increasingly difficult to read as well, lately her mind was a fortress and he the lone soldier attempting fruitlessly to mount an attack upon it..._

_Outside March was drawing to a close, he looked out across the immaculate grounds of Malfoy Manor and saw brilliant emerald._

* * *

_He was so angry he could have burned the whole manor to the ground. He paced rapidly before a massive fire place, nearly as tall as he was and thrice as wide, the long table had been moved and it was once again populated with tables, chairs, and rugs. He had found a better room, or rather he had commandeered the entire eastern half of the second floor and adjusted it to his needs, after knocking down a pair of walls that lead to useless spaces it was big enough for his thoughts._

_But not near enough for his fury, he threw another scathing look at the only other person in the room. She was dressed simply, in fact he was fairly certain she was still in her sleeping clothes, silk pants and a corresponding top, and she appeared to have thrown her hair up without looking, an entire section in the front was still loose. Her thin body was coiled into the nearest sofa and she looked as irritated with him as he was with her, her arms were crossed and she was staring fixedly at the floor with a contemptuous expression. He could see the dark circles that shadowed her eyes, her upper and lower lids streaked violet beneath her pallid skin, she had to have been exhausted, for a single, irrational moment she seemed so pitiful he contemplated sending her back to her room. He scowled..._

_Given the circumstances he really shouldn't care if he had forced her out of bed or not._

_He had told her, if once than thrice that she was to keep well away from any business concerning the war, that in the event of a struggle she was to either locate or summon himself immediately. And yet he had rushed back to close the book on his rivalry with Harry Potter forever and found the boy had escaped and Bellatrix battle-worn and on the verge of collapse. Narcissa's memories had shown him all, the sword, the elf, the way his second in command had managed to tangle herself in the debacle...he snorted derisively in disgust..._

_"I thought you were intelligent", he lamented, very softly._

_Her face jerked up and her lip curled angrily, "I am, I only-"._

_"No you're not Bella", he cut her off, "Or you would do as I say". Just obey, was that truly so difficult._

_"I'm tired of sitting out", she snarled._

_"You wouldn't have to if you would let us help you. Let Snape help you, let him assess you and you may rejoin us tomorrow", he knew from experience that threats didn't work, she bore any punishment he could inflict with the collectedness of a seasoned martyr, bribery was the only leverage left to him. A miserable huff passed his lips, what was everything coming to?_

_"No", her voice sounded flat, dead, like she didn't have much time left._

_He rounded on her and finally threw his hands up in defeat, "What is worse than this!", he demanded, "What do you believe I could not assist you with! Do you truly have so little faith! If someone is hunting you I can stop them! If you are ill I can save you! If there is something you desire it is yours for the taking!", he shook his head, "But it is making me sick, watching you roll over and die like this. I made you stronger than that Bellatrix!"._

_Her eyes flared open wide and her lips parted, shock painted her weary features, he thought it odd for a moment..._

_...and then stopped cold..._

_His attachment to her had gone so much further than he had ever meant it to, he felt it clearly for the first time, the way he was hovering just this side of that forbidden phrase. He saw her terrifyingly frailty and wondered if months or moments were slipping away, were her final days passing them both by?_

_His thoughts raced along their path without assistance, the implications nightmarish. Say she did die, what if he found it impossible to continue..._

_Because that was the fact of the matter, he didn't want her to die..._

_He was in too deep, in too many ways to count. He was bound, rigidly, and irrevocably to the war he had created, and victory was the only option. He could not seem to restrain his emotions where the woman before him was concerned and that was more terrifying to him than any threat Leader could impose._

_He loathed the utter humanity she drew from him, he was so far above the things that people concerned themselves with. What did he want with friends, or family? He had been created to act as fate's hand, he was sure of it. He did not need companionship when musings in silence, of ideas no one else could ever have conceived of, were always with him. _

_He was not meant for an ordinary life, to concern himself with things of such mundane nature would have been a waste. But she would say something, or do something, always something above and beyond what duty required. Revealing with an agonizing clarity how she cared for him and that one last trace of weakness would be intrigued by what that sentiment offered._

_He had always had a very clearly defined relationship with other people, he hated them and they feared him. It was simple, clean, easy. He thrived on that sense of isolation._

_But leave it to Bellatrix to break the rules, in the worst possible way. Her affection was unconditional, and iron clad, and so damnably genuine it astounded him. _

_He hated her for it more often than not._

_"Why can't you trust me?", her voice was little more than a whisper. Without looking she brought a smoldering piece of charcoal from within the fire and held it in suspension before her, he watched as it slowly twisted and she began to trace patterns in the air with it. The paths spelled out the Japanese legend of Yomi, how the first goddess was corrupted by the realm of the dead and Inzanagi's failure to accept the change tarnished her memory._

_"Stop that", he snapped, "Besides, I doubt you've died in child birth", he waved a hand dismissively._

_Her expression darkened and the ash suddenly burst apart scattering dust across the cavernous room. Her gaze landed upon some great distance he could not see once more and he sensed that she was determined not to absorb another word he spoke. He thought her reaction odd but if there was any significance to it, it was lost on him._

_No matter how well he liked someone, and she resided very high on his list of individuals he could tolerate interacting with, he was not one to yield to another for compassionate reasons. And as it stood she had done enough brooding to exhaust his patience for a great while to come, she needed to be reminded of her place._

_"You will listen to me", he bit out, voice deathly low, "I have tolerated your acting like a petulant child because of your current condition,", his eyes narrowed as he gazed down at her, "But no more"._

_Using the word condition was one of the worst cases of whitewashing he had ever encountered._

___Her power was terrible, tremendous, and so wildly unpredictable, what had started as a simple increased capacity for occlumency had morphed into full-blown phsyco-kinesis that flared at the slightest provocation. The sitting room from that night had four windows blown out from a second confrontation (which had been followed by a far preferable method of interaction), her bedroom had a crack in the ceiling from where he had pre-occupied her to the point that she lost control._

___"What if I told you it's better this way?", she asked tiredly, her expression was pained, he felt the answers there, just on the tip of her tongue. He wanted to know what that truth was so very much, would speaking the right words be enough?_

___"I would reserve the right to judge that for myself", he replied._

___"And if I told you it wouldn't change anything?", she pressed._

___"Then I would at least possess the capacity to make the attempt", he answered quickly, hardly daring to believe it would be so easy._

_She snorted, "I would love to see you try"._

_"Tell me", he breathed._

_"My Lord, believe you me when I say it is of absolutely no concern to you", he hated that knowing look on her face, of secrets kept from him._

_"But you will die because of it"._

_"I will"._

_He could not quite get his mind around that, unable to contemplate the emotional state one would have to be in to willingly lay down their life. The thought alone was enough to leave him shaking, he could think of nothing that would force him to it. _

_"Are you afraid?", he whispered, she sat there so calmly, breathing slow, deep breaths, knowing they were numbered. He clutched at his own throat involuntarily._

_"Yes"._

_"Then why-"._

_"Because it's the only way"._

_He did not like it, the sense of helplessness. He was her commander, she could not simply decide to die. He had always known, that one day she would grow old, or else be struck down in battle. This slow, steady march to suicide was not part of the plan, and he was not equipped or willing to allow it. She was so similar to himself, if she was susceptible who was to say that he was safe. _

_His nature did not allow him to accept defeat and he could not bare to look upon her and her weakness another moment._

_So he fled._

* * *

_"You're behind schedule Tom", he jumped at the sound of Ammen's voice, his eyes, which had been glued to his hands snapped up._

_"Pardon?", he inquired, though he knew perfectly well what the Egyptian man had said. He was buying himself time to come up with a valid excuse._

_"I said you're running late", the low, heavily accented voice boomed again. The sound too smooth, too similar to an actual base, the articulation aggravatingly indistinct. It was the very anti-thesis to his own. The man himself couldn't have been more opposite in looks either. His skin and eyes were dark, his facial hair and eyebrows were black and shaggy , his features were exaggeratedly prominent and exotic looking. He wore white from the turban on his head to the sandals on his feet, like some sort of holy man. The whole affect was cliche'd and pointless in his opinion, each and every man and woman in the room knew that Ammen was not the world's white knight, though he clearly thought himself something akin to a savior._

_They were all congregated around a single table, the best witches and wizards the world had to offer, each representing a different country. There were some that chose not to participate, China for instance resented Egypt's claim to the first practitioners of magic and so they refused to send a delegate. The nation of Japan also refuted the validity of that record, upon the basis that their royal family descended from gods, and were therefore inherently magical from the dawn of existence, in Kotei no Majikku Saito's own words the children of the sun did not congregate with liars._

_Voldemort thought them foolish, principled to be sure, but they lost a good deal of influence through their unwillingness to cooperate. His sympathy may have been greater were he not one of the three who were compelled to travel to the region annually to try and persuade the non-aligned countries to join with them. It was an exercise in futility, he had succeeded a grand total of once with the tiny, and rather inconsequential Taiwan, his contemporaries had fared no better, all they had managed was to scrounge the island of Bali between the two of them._

_One would think that as their leader Ammen might reconsider his approach but alas, it was the same series of poor decisions annually, like clockwork. The same location, if he never saw the frozen wasteland that was Sakkolin island again he would be perfectly content, the same tactics, the same ambassadors._

_The first, Hama, went because although she represented Tibet she was full blooded Japanese, it was thought that they would be more credible with a native present._

_The second was Nicolo of Italy, who possessed a highly affable nature and an uncanny knack for procuring out comes in his favor, he was there to make allies for them._

_He went because he was fluent in over twenty languages, and for his capability as a legilimens, he served as the primary communicator. Unbeknownst to his team mates he had also collected a great number of useful contacts during the three years he had spent traveling the area. He made a point of keeping that information private, the reason for the journey had been foremost to train Bellatrix, but the other's needn't know that. He didn't want anyone asking questions, as long as it was within his power to stop them, the organization would never set eyes on her._

_Ammen knew of her, and Voldemort was well aware that he lusted after her power, but as long as he still lived Ammen could not name her successor to his seat, nor take her for his own. She was a citizen of england, under his jurisdiction unless Ammen wanted to breach innumerable ancient and powerful codes of conduct, Bellatrix remained out of his grasp._

_"I encountered...complications", he supplied unhelpfully._

_Ammen's dark eyes narrowed, "Meaning?", he pressed._

_"Meaning that while the stupid old man is finally out of my way he left a surprising number of followers in his wake and they are giving me trouble", he held his breath and hoped that the egyptian would buy it._

_"You lie Tom", Ammen thundered, "Even you can put down a simple rebellion. Tell me what really happened"._

_He remained silent._

_"How is lovely Bellatrix Tom?", his breath caught. **He knows**, his mind screamed._

_"She is quite well, why do you ask?", he forced himself to reply mildly._

_"Shut up!", the Egyptian snarled, his too low voice a grating resonation against his ear drums, "Lies, all fucking lies!", his tan face was ruddy and blotchy._

_"How is Bella?", he asked again, his countenance had returned to painstakingly courteous,"You see I like to keep an eye on those who seem", he examined him scathingly, "less than trust worthy. And I couldn't help but notice that my people haven't spotted her in weeks? Is she still part of your organization?"._

_"Yes". Inside he seethed._

_"Why ever wouldn't she be going about her ordinary duties?"._

_He sighed heavily, dreading what would come next, "Bella has taken ill"._

_Ammen's eyes glittered with triumph, "With what?"_

_"I don't know"._

_"What do you mean you don't know?", he demanded._

_"I mean her symptoms are bizarre and she won't let us conduct an examination", he dead panned._

_"So make her, she's one woman Tom", Ammen sneered._

_"It is not that simple"._

_"Why not?"._

_"She's become so strong...", he trailed off, bit his lip, continued, "I'm reluctant to test the extent of it", he confessed. He felt a most curious mixture of agonizing shame and a brilliant pride. On one hand he had been surpassed, on the other it was his own apprentice who had finally done it. Did that not indicate he had done well? Bella, from the little girl who had tried to hex him because he startled her, to the prodigy who had inherited almost everything he had to pass on. __The only person in the whole world who he had anything to fear from but close enough she wouldn't dream of harming him. Her damned stubborn streak was vexing at times but it got things accomplished just as often._

_"Perhaps she deserves your place here", Ammen said, "I take only the best...if that is no longer you..."._

_He was clearly insinuating that Bellatrix should come reside with the master organization in Cairo, because he obviously wasn't able to handle her. But he knew the other members and their respective abilities well, there was no one more equipped to keep her under control than himself. He may differ to Ammen, call him leader, but only because he was bound to do so. Because he had sworn the unbreakable oath when he was young and stupid and over eager._

_He would not have relinquished his protegee' even if there was someone else better, the active phrase was **his,**his student. He did not share._

_"I'm not referring to a variety of power that would strengthen your hand as a tool, what I mean to say is that her strength has grown tenfold, more even, but it's volatile, out of her control to a large extent. She would be a danger to you"._

_"So she has become a liability", the egyptian pried for something he could use..._

_He laughed at him dryly, "I said dangerous to you. She is perfectly innocuous with me"._

_"You just stated that you were unable to even conduct a medical examination? That sounds risky to me", Ammen told him imperiously, clearly irked that he had insinuated he was more powerful, "It would be better for all of us if she were here, where the entire group can keep her contained. If you simply can not bare that, then kill her", he told him, as if it were the most simple thing in the world, "She can't be allowed to exist as a hazard to the organization"._

_His head spun, Bellatrix? Dead by his hand?_

_Was he even capable of killing her now? He thought back across the years and found it difficult to remember what the time without her had been like, she was a constant, unswerving in her loyalty, he could as easily kill her as he could amputate a limb. Even when he was a shade, stranded amongst the Albanian trees, there was the ever present sense that he was never truly forgotten, someone would be searching for him, fighting for him in a time when he could not fight for himself._

_After all he had done to ensure her presence remained in his life, she was going to be stripped out of it? Just like that?_

_He could not believe he had even thought to consider it. He was not willing to give up that one and only vice, he needed her to stay sane. Because it took someone like himself, another warrior, another prodigy, another inhuman to make him feel normal._

_He needed to think and think fast. If he could just buy himself some time, would he be able to change Ammen's mind?..._

_"She is crucial to my plans for the next several weeks, if you would just let me keep her until her usefulness has run it's course...", he began._

_"You won't dispose of her then?", the egyptian probed._

_"No"._

_"How very kind of you"._

_Voldemort shrugged non-comittally._

_"You were saying?", Ammen prompted._

_"It is vital to our goals that she remain with me until May", he completed._

_"What day?", Ammen demanded._

_"The fifth", he sighed._

_The egyptian considered for a long moment, finally he proclaimed, "Then I will look forward to seeing the both of you on the sixth". Meaning 'be here obscenely early in the morning and not an hour later'._

_He wanted to argue but his hands were tied, he could do nothing but acquiesce and wait. He hated this feeling of being powerless and ineffective, wanting to do nothing but scream but staying silent, with his head bowed._

_Ammen had already forgotten him, and was addressing the thirty or so others crowded around the long table when he looked up again, and he did not pay him any more mind throughout the rest of the briefing. For his part, he sat through it feeling pensive and anxious, when they were finally allowed to leave he all but literally bolted out of the room and took the steps to the surface as fast as he could. A pity he couldn't just aparate away from his seat but the whole venue was bewitched to prevent any kind of quick escape._

_He flung the exit open and stepped out to lightning cracking over head and a city that smelled like hot pavement and ozone. Thunder rumbled near enough to vibrate in his chest._

_He closed his eyes and vanished just before the first torrent of rain hit the street._

* * *

**_Again, reviews mean so much to me._**


	4. Chapter 4

**_My fastest update ever. I am terrified to post this chapter, I haven't read anything similar ever. _**

**_Please review as always, help me avoid the horror that is OOC Voldemort. _**

**_"Ten Miles Wide" by Escape the Fate. _**

* * *

**_Weapon, Chapter Four: Sahadata, Martyrdom_**

_With no one around to see it he shivered in a decidedly un-dignified way and wiped rain water off of his face with the back of his hand. It struck him as objectionable that he had magic to secure his essential immortality and yet __he would still be caught in a storm._

_At least he had gotten out of the desert before the gale gathered any real force, thunder and lightning were, after all, less an inconvenience than flash flooding. This was one of the reason he had never secured property in egypt,despite being a frequent visitor, he did not need to waste resources on something that would only end up destroyed._

_To his mild irritation it was still pouring six hundred miles away, and the maelstrom did not appear to be a recent development, how much longer would it drag out?_

_He slipped the outermost layer of his clothing, a traveling cloak, albeit one far more suited for protection from the sun than wind and water, off and draped it over the first piece of furniture he encountered in the foyer._

_The great mansion was silent and he sensed only two other people within the house and a third outside, with his thoughts fixated on the vast library upstairs he followed the staircase up, taking the steps two at a time._

_The Grand Archive of the Malfoy Family easily took up half of the second story and he did actually have to take a brief moment to remind himself of the layout once he had entered through a pair of impressive, redwood, double doors._

_Only a second though, before his photographic memory easily recalled the place and it spread as a map before his mind's eye, he slipped between rows of towering book shelves, summoning volumes he was sure hadn't been examined in decades as he went._

___He imagined that at one time the carpets had been a rich, deep red and the walls coverings a shimmering silver, at present however they were coated in a heavy layer of dust and he noticed soft clouds rising beneath his feet, clearly the current descendants did not take after the intellectual who had built this place._

_A snake's hiss sounded near by and he spotted Nagini draped over one of the high shelves, "It's raining", she shared and he knew it was a round about jab at him, he had neglected to remove the excess moisture from his robes, by magic or even manually, no selfing respecting wizard really had an excuse to walk around in such a way but he simply didn't care at the moment._

_"I hadn't noticed", he sneered, responding in parsletongue, there was a flurry of short, light sounds from the massive animal like air being let out of a balloon, over the years he had learned to interpret this as laughter however he did not join her in her mirth._

_The twenty or so odd books followed him obiediently around the vast room and he slowly picked his way over to a large chair, tucked between the aisle of the last row of shelves and the wall that contained a series of massive windows overlooking the garden._

_The tower of encyclopedias and analytical document deposited itself neatly on the floor except for one which flew into his hand and he closed his fingers around it and folded himself into the oversized piece of furniture. The back was lavishly high and the seat itself enormous and it was one of those rare instances in which he could just indulge the old habit and tuck his knees up to his chest, most chairs wouldn't have come close to accommodating the full length of his body in such a manner._

_He opened the book to a random spot, it was simply an expose' on the theory of legilemency but he was hoping to find examples of cases in which the capacity to read a particular mind was lost entirely. He was certain that it was not his ability that was the problem, Rodolphus' thoughts, for example, were still loud and clear, a radio tuned to precisely the correct frequency._

_He could not fathom a reason that Bellatrix's mind would suddenly close off, it was not even merely difficult anymore, her end had gone completely silent. He seriously suspected that her sudden strange behavior, illness, and flawless execution of occlumency were all very closely connected, it wasn't so much a question of **if** as a question of how._

_Page after he page he tore through and nothing, he tossed the first book aside, frowning. He turned and propped on his elbow to look out the window, across the japanese garden at the back of the house. The rain came down in sheets and it turned the normally glassy surface of the pond to a rippling sea and that was the reason why his attention was drawn to the spot initially._

_It was also why he happened to notice Bellatrix and Rodolphus standing at the edge of it, apparently absorbed completely it what looked to be a rather intense argument._

_Lestrange's back was turned to him but he could see Bella quite clearly, her ashen face tense and angry, her brow furrowed, he hadn't ever seen her look so upset with her husband. A tremor of something akin to triumph raced up his spine, he shoved the notion away swiftly, he had not done anything to warrant the strange euphoria._

_His struggling with his own sheerly irrational emotions was quellled momentarily when she suddenly pulled her wand on the man, his brow shot up. **She wouldn't...**_

_A jet of red light streamed from the walnut wand, he didn't have to read her lips to know what spell she unleashed..._

**_She would..._**

_Rodolphus jerked but did not collapse under the cruciartus curse and he wondered vaguely if one could atribute that more to Bellatrix's weakened state, than her husband's fortitude._

_The shaking man drew his own wand and her lips curled back over her teeth into a vicious snarl. Someone screamed, through the glass the sound was distant and muted, like he was under water._

_A shield charm flared to life between them and the pair was separated by it, both thrown off of their feet with the force of the magical wall bursting into existence. Rodolphus was blasted back against the rocks and the already sopping wet Bellatrix went skittering into the water._

_Narcissa Malfoy entered his line of sight and he let out a single bark of a laugh for sheer shock that the apparently useless woman could conjure a blockade so powerful. She strode across the earth, appearing far more intimidating than he would have believed someone of her stature to be capable of, and rounded on her sister who was shivering and from what he had been able to glean, expressing her displeasure at the interference most vehemently, she appeared to have lost her wand._

_The eastern european man rose to his feet as well and joined immediately into the altercation._

_He didn't quite catch what was said after that, he just saw that one moment his "employees" were a bickering triangle and the next they had both pulled their wands on the tall dark haired woman._

_He reacted without thinking, apparating out of his chair in a puff of ebony vapor. Who knew what came over him, the movement was spurred by a single notion, that she was very weak and he seriously doubted she could survive being stunned, let alone live through any hex out of Rodolphus' arsenal._

_He did not barge in that melodramatic fashion on to the scene to defend her, leave the heroics to fools, for what else did they have? The thought of himself being anything remotley resembling gallant was laughable._

_He re-materialized silently to the cover of a willow, not hiding per say as he was in fact visible, and furthermore close enough to interfere is need be, but he hardly announced his arrival with a fanfare of trumpets._

_They did not notice his sudden appearance and so he waited, wondering if his presence would be detected at all._

_He could hear make out what they were saying now, he listened to them squabble..._

_"What has gotten in to you Bella!", Narcissa reprimanded._

_"Don't call me tha-"._

_"I have a few guesses as to what's gotten in to her", Voldemort did not miss the double entendre in Rodolphus words..._

_"What exactly are you implying,** darling**?"._

_"Oh please, it's hardly a secret just how favored you are Bellatrix"._

_"Rodolphus!", Narcissa exclaimed, "That's a horrid thing to say!"._

_"I'm sorry, I'm not quite clear, could you tell me precisley what you mean?", Bella said, so sweetly that if he had been in Rodolphus' position he might have been inclined to fear her._

_"How does it feel, dear, to know that he had all the power in the world to stop it and yet here you are married to me"._

_He watched her transform, there was no other term that could accurately convey the shift in her countenance and suddenly a sickly green light was collecting on her finger tips, she flexed her slender hands and the strange energy writhed hungrily._

_Her large eyes were hateful and absolutely blind, delirious in her rage, the pupil appeared to have opened up and swallowed the iris whole, the whites were disappearing too. He'd never seen such a phenomena, the average wizard didn't show any physical signs when using magic, though he knew from experience that the forbidden arts could exhaust the body to it's limits. Precisely where those limits resided seemed to be a purely genetic determination, he had seen men die using spells he wouldn't think twice about._

_He couldn't fathom what Bellatrix was doing now though, if he didn't know better he would have sworn that she was performing high level magic without a wand to act as an amplifier but that was impossible. She could not have tapped that much power, not unless she had been hiding the bulk of her ability for decades and even so she wouldn't be able to concentrate it like that outside of her body. No one had enough raw energy to manipulate tangible quantities of it in midair unassisted, that was the whole point of a wand was that the magical components of the conductor functioned in harmony with it's owner, infusing the natural capabilities of the wielder with sufficient power to carry out the poor man's arts, the defensive arts, and the matter manipulation practices, essentially everything necessary for a normal life. The reason that particular magic users required particular wands was that a balance had to be struck between the tendencies of the wizard and the amplifier to achieve that preferred median level. Too great an amplifier and a simple spell to light a candle could engulf an entire table in flame, to little and one might as well not have a wand at all._

_He simply couldn't account for it, but more and more still, materialized at her hands. Brighter, more substantial, until he recognized what she invoked and what she meant to do._

_Fuck._

_He dematerialized the instant she lunged. Reapparating barely in the nick of time behind her._

_Another second, if he had been another second slower Rodolphus would have been dead. Bellatrix thrashed wildly against his grip but his hands remained locked around her wrists. Air escaped him with a whoosh when her shoulder blade slammed against his diaphragm but he ignored the pain and pulled her back harder._

_The killing curse dissipated and only then did he loosen his hold on her, after hauling her a few more steps steps back for good measure._

_He stared the other man down, "Go", he told Rodolphus, "Find somewhere to lie low, don't return until I call you"._

_For a moment the shorter male looked like he wanted to say something but instead he turned on the spot and dissaparated._

_"Narcissa, go inside", he ordered quietly. Mrs. Malfoy certainly didn't have to be told twice._

_When he heard her foot steps fade away he turned to Bellatrix who was partially folded over on herself and rubbing her wrists, she still looked furious enough to rip someone's throat out, but so was he._

_"What was that?", he asked her quietly, he felt angry though. Frighteningly out of control._

_She glared at him, "Why didn't you let me kill him?"._

_He ignored her question, "Tell me what is wrong with you?"._

_"Honestly I don't know why it matters to you", she persisted._

_"Tell me the truth!", he burst out, surprising himself as much as he surprised her._

_"There is nothing to tell!", she rebuffed immediately. But she was too quick to be defensive, even if he couldn't read her mind there where many signs that were just as blatantly obvious._

_"That spell, a wand-less unforgivable curse?", he asked dryly, "I can not even dream of how to accomplish that. Yet you perform such a feat on a** reflex**. **Explain**"._

_"I won't"._

_"I know!", he snapped._

_"I know", he reiterated quietly, "but you don't", he said before he could stop himself, "you don't understand the consequences of this game you are playing!"._

_"A game", she whispered, "I forgot that all anything ever is for you is a means to an end", she said bitterly._

_He sucked in a long draw of air, the statement was, for the most part, accurate. He was a far cry from altruistic, but he was capable of helping others if they had actually earned his assistance. Contrary to popular belief he was able to acknowledge the worth in people, what he lacked was the willingness to place it above his own. Hardly a criminal offense in his opinion, it was his role to play, he was more gifted than the others. Stronger, more intelligent, he lived free of the bonds that tainted most souls, who better to pass judgement than himself?_

_And yet here she was accusing him of wrong. Her heart and mind were sullied by her emotions, but he had sold his soul to spare them the shackles he bore. Mostly to pay back his debt for her lifetime of devotion, but there was a part of him that ached at the thought that she would lose her freedom, and it had conceded in the decision to save her from it, under the belief that she had done nothing to deserve such a wretched fate._

_She spoke again, revealing further her complete ignorance, eroding at his sympathy..._

_"**You** do not understand that there is more to win than a goal when all you do is manipulate!", she bit out and he knew it was meant to hurt but all it did was fuel his anger._

_"That's not-", he began indignantly. She had no idea, no fucking idea..._

_"Fair?", she snarled, "I've been more than fair to you! My whole life I-", but she never got to finish her sentence. Her small hand flew to her sternum and she gasped once before collapsing into a dead faint._

_For a split second he stood still, blinking dumbfoundedly, but he recovered just as quickly and pointed his wand at her, "Renevirate", he muttered. Nothing happened._

_He knelt beside her, looking for some sort of medical complication, he was certain that his spell was not the issue. He carefully lifted her head, checking to see if she had cracked it open when she hit the stone path. He pressed his hand lightly to her scalp but when he removed it, it came away free of blood. He repeated the gesture on her neck, wondering if by some freak twist of fate she had fractured her spine, but that theory proved incorrect as well. It was only when he decided to check her vitals that he noticed anything irregular, her heart beat was weak, and violently too-fast._

_Cardiac arrest._

_Bellatrix should have been too young to even be aware of the possibility of heart complications. But he knew that the condition could also be a result of extreme over-taxation. His brow furrowed, she had been resting for the last half-month, why was she getting worse? If only she would let Snape get a diagnosis, then at least they would know what was destroying her. He wondered if she would stay unconscious long enough for him to call the potions-master and have her looked at, how much time would that take, an hour? Two at the most? At least half an hour of that would consist of waiting for Snape to arrive._

_That wasn't good enough, she would die in a matter of minutes if no one was able to help her, he was going to have to do this himself. "Levicorpus", he muttered, again no result, as if enough magic had collected around her that it negated everything that came within it's sphere of influence. He sighed, thoroughly humiliated that his own energy wasn't strong enough to break through the protective field, he felt flush, though he knew the odds of his face actually coloring were slim to none. Finally, he stooped to physically pick her up, as soon as he was supporting her full body weight he knew something was off. She was deathly thin, absolutely skeletal, he hadn't thought it possible but she had easily lost another twenty pounds since that night. Yet she felt curiously heavy, far more than her tiny frame should have constituted, one more mystery to add to the ever growing list._

_He wasn't stupid enough to even try apparating while holding her, heaven only knew what her out of control power would do to them during the transit, so that left him stuck carrying her back into the house and to the only suite on the entirety of the ground floor, the one he was currently inhabiting. He was in no manner inclined to haul her all the way up to the third level and his room was far better equipped anyway. He crossed the back foyer and the long hall in seconds, flicked a finger at his locked door, which flew open with a gratifying bang, and slipped into the darkened room. The opulently embroidered curtain were all drawn tightly closed and held with a sticking charm, blocking out any meager light that could have emitted from the fogged sky, no candle burned, no light was lit, he felt his pupils expanding rapidly, acclimating to the almost pitch darkness._

_He deposited her unceremoniously on the bed, she stirred when she hit the mattress, her eyes flared open and she tried frantically for air again, he had never suffered heart failure, but the drawn out scream that small expansion of her rib cage ripped from her was enough to give him a very good idea of what was happening. She shuddered and jerked, almost like she was having a seizure, alternately sobbing and hyperventilating, he fought the impulse to cringe. Proximity to illness had always discomfited him, he knew logically that cardiac failure was not contagious but that did not calm the part of his mind that wanted to flee from the weakness and possibly expiry that he would witness if he remained. As if the same fate would be fall him if he so much as saw death. 'Leave her', it screamed, 'You are more important. Save yourself'._

_It warred with the impulse that said 'No. Help her, don't let her die. Where will you be if she is gone? Alone, just you, open, vulnerable. How will you fare then?', it goaded. He was torn, his mind shredding to pieces, fragmenting like the treasure hunt he had turned his soul in to. He took a little of the precious time to slow his breathing and focus, when he did he found it was not long before his fear of true isolation out weighed his most mortal terror._

_He was aware that his options were extremely limited, there was no time to brew anything strong enough to save her, muggle medicine was worthless, and he didn't know any healing spells potent enough to effect her through the veil of her practically limitless power. He hadn't been aware how much she had been containing it until she couldn't anymore, the sheer volume of energy in the room was making the air ripple, fluttering against his skin in sporadic bursts of what felt like electricity. No wonder he couldn't read her mind, her tiny frame didn't look capable of containing that kind of strength, the tremendous mass of it threatened to overwhelm her._

_His eyes widened, he had happened upon at least a partial explanation, this weakness despite her ability never being greater, something was sapping even larger amounts of power than she possessed. The question was what?_

_Now was not the time, he reminded himself, it would be a mute point if he took much longer. What she needed was a massive dose of energy, enough to stabilize her condition until Severus could get to her and make a better assessment. His own knowledge was vast but he was no healer. He watched her sputter and writhe in pain and for the first time in his life he wished he had paid closer attention in school, he knew there had been several units on healing and he had scored outstanding in each, but he couldn't remember a thing._

_He wracked his mind, a charge from lightning might do the trick but he doubted even he could command nature precisely enough to restart her heart, more likely than not he would kill her in the attempt. He knew no curse that acted in the same manner, a meditative transfer technique would take to long and required too much participation on her part._

_Nagini slithered in and coiled at his feet, "What have you done?", she mocked, observing the scene with an air of detached amusement. There were times that he could not believe the degree to which a creature that housed a piece of himself could be so insufferably talkative, he was confident that he was not nearly so obnoxious._

_A fit of inspiration struck him, he had managed to extend the animal's lifespan far beyond it's natural limits by sharing some of his own life energy with her, when he had made Nagini a horcrux, could he make Bellatrix into?...The benefits were undeniable, she would live, at least a while longer, and he would finally gain access to her mind, the option was viable, the transfer, though excruciating took only seconds. He raised his wand..._

_He opened his mouth to speak the words but no sound came, he realized then that his hand was shaking badly, he was afraid. He wasn't entirely certain his soul could withstand another fracture and if it couldn't..._

_He would die..._

_It would be be slow, painful, torture, without sufficient life force to sustain it his body would fail and essentially tear itself apart._

_He drew a shuddering breath, his strength was vast, even an eighth of an entity like his own would surely be enough, he was in no danger, he told himself. But that didn't stop him trembling or his stomach churning, he gritted his teeth tightly and before he could lose his nerve all together he forced the incantation out._

_Agony exploded in his chest and he felt his own heart falter, miss a beat and then compensate with a pulse millions of times too forceful. The arm he could see had blood blossoming beneath the skin like ink spilled on old parchment, his wrists stung and he watched as pearls, precisely the size and color of garnets pushed past his skin, trailed like tears down his hands and across the sheet. He felt a dampness at his throat, felt it spread down over his collar bone, his eyes were moist though he could not cry, he could only just faintly glimpse the murky red drops as they dripped down over the ridges of his cheek bones and out of sight._

_His breath caught and he coughed, something tore, the awful sound of his body ripping seemed deafeningly loud, he gasped and found his air way blocked. His fears had not been unfounded, he had not been paranoid but reckless._

_It had gone horribly wrong._

_His fury at her was incomparable, because he was about to lose his life for her refusal to do as she was told. How little she must care for him, to let him become a sacrifice for her pride. But he could not hate her fully because he was certain he would have done the same. If Ammen broke with the code and came for her he would kill Bellatrix himself before he let her fall into someone else's hands, the though of her power brought to bare against him was an unpleasant one to be sure. She was his ultimate soldier and no matter how much he may like her she was a weapon and his enemies could not be allowed to take possession of._

_This was the end, he knew it with every cell that made him, no one survived heavy internal bleeding without immediate attention and the only two people who would help him were either almost dead themselves or much too far away. At the very least he was going to complete the ritual, so his death (he was dying, his shoulders trembled) would not be entirely pointless, he pressed a bleeding palm to his chest and held it until he could grasp the piece that had been detached, drew away and felt the distinct sensation of something vital extracted, the hand shone with a faint glow, a thousand tiny pin-pricks of light, no where near as bright as it had been the first time._

_It was a fight to maintain control over the fragment, it was turning in to a battle to stay conscious, he brought it to her sternum, his hand took up from the hollow of her throat to the very top of her ribcage. She jerked when the foreign energy entered her body, she would have been screaming, he was certain, but she could not draw enough breath to shout. She seemed to have been jolted awake, her eyes were trained on him, frantic like a trapped animal's. For a moment she tried to escape him and then the lonely shred seemed to detect her intact spirit and put an end to her squirming, he chanced a glance at her face and when he met her gaze he knew, she realized what was happening._

_Another wave of panic washed over him, she had a piece of his soul, he had given her power over him, it literally belonged to her now, his greatest hope was the she would keep it safe, but it was also hers to manipulate, to use, destroy if she wanted to. And she would have access to his mind, conversely he would finally regain admittance to hers, it would be so much harder to block her via occlumency, it was one thing to ward off an invading mind while alert and fully aware. But even he couldn't shield himself completely every moment , and eventually she would see, the very nature of what he was, his subconscious, the thoughts he could not control, it was so dreadfully intimate, so revealing._

_She loosed one last horrid cry before her breathing finally evened out and he could hear oxygen flow easily into her lungs, her pulse was thrumming stronger with every second, he felt it awakening under his hand, the sure, steady beat fluttering at the thin skin where her veins lay close to the surface. Her head fell back and her eyes fluttered closed, finally able to rest._

_He was not as lucky, the bleeding was rendering him feeble and when he made to try and repair the damage himself he found his magic would not come, he snarled in frustration, tried again, thrice, four times, each proved worthless. How did he fight it? How could he? He wasn't strong enough._

_There was a brief and intense flash of clarity and in it he hated himself so much he felt sick. He was so weak, so pathetic, he couldn't free himself from Ammen's control, couldn't stop Bellatrix from wasting away, couldn't even save his own life. The entirety of his existence consisted of climbing and falling, each time he would reach higher and higher and each time he would slip._

_His stomach heaved and he was ill, he shuddered and wiped his lower lip with his thumb, he found that his fingers were frigidly cold, there was blood lingering on the pad of the digit. How much more was left? Surely he couldn't continue on in this way much longer. The chill at his extremities was working it's way up through his limbs, like frost spreading over the ground, was that bad or good? The ice left numbness in it's wake, a lack of pain was implicit and he should have been grateful but there was an instinct in the very back of his rapidly fogging mind that screamed once it had consumed all of him he would be beyond help._

_The will to fight was ever present, however the ability had abandoned him and he was exhausted, his eyelids were leaden and the cold sapped his energy, blackness was threatening the edges of his vision. He could scarcely move but he managed to drag himself onto the mattress beside her, he felt fragile, like living glass, just supporting his weight on his arms for those few seconds was unbearably painful._

_Through the haze of delirium he could feel body heat rolling off of her and he pulled her closer, dignity abandoned, anything that would take away the cold. The motion seemed to stir her and he watched her wide, pretty, eyes begin to flutter open, there was a span of several seconds where she stared at him like she was seeing him properly for the first time._

_She had never cried, or if she had, she had never cried in front of him, but he watched tears leak slowly from the corners of her eyes._

_"You're dying", she whispered, her hand came up to curl over his cheek bone, he would ordinarily have shunned such an affectionate gesture but as it stood he was so grateful for the warmth he leaned into it as much as he could muster._

_"...didn't realize...not powerful enough...", he rasped, his throat was on fire. The admission killed him, but if it was death or shame the choice was an easy one, who was she going to tell anyway? He needed her at the moment, she was his best hope. His voice had stopped working, his fate was riding on her ability to decipher what was wrong and react, correctly and quickly, he didn't know if he should feel relieved or terrified, his mind was calculating all of the possible outcomes at a million miles per second, he was making himself dizzy._

_His consciousness slipped, almost from existence at that point, he faded in and out, he could feel it, the realm that lay beyond, it pulled at him with a terrifying strength, like a tidal wave over a stone. Every time the strange, fluid world receded he would be fooled into hoping and he would cling to his own plane of existence harder, every time it grew thousandfold more difficult not to be swept away._

_Then suddenly there was fire, sharp, bright, almost as cruel as death. It alone held him anchor, a minute concentration of light shining bravely against the swelling dark water. Both elements inflicted agony with each passing moment they lingered, but there was an intrinsic instinct that knew as long as the flame stayed the rolling abyss could not take him._

_He could not reach, but he extended himself toward the brilliant mass, it answered, sensually coiling itself over his shoulder, leaving seared flesh in the wake of every caress. It knew his name, his real name, the one he had taken the day he became what destiny had always intended, it whispered the word softly, over and over, it brushed his face._

_He finally broke the surface and Bellatrix was there, calling for him, near silently, her elegant hand still resting gently against the hollow of his cheek. The familiar energy just under her satin skin, living in the space left between fine bones, he could feel it within his own vessel, just as his essence sustained her, he pushed outward with the force of his mind, nearly crying out in triumph when he heard her, reappearing like a lamp at nightfall, a sure and tangible existence in the infinity of the ether._

_"I knew it would work", his voice clear as he spoke in her mind, her eyes widened. He laughed weakly, reveling in how thoroughly the link had been mended. Her inner thoughts were still impenetrable, but the stray ones at the surface were streaming to him steadily, like a muggle radio._

_"Never doubt me Bella", he told her and he felt so weak but his conviction was so very strong._

_Her thoughts spoke gratitude and he acknowledged it in turn, it was strange really, the way they kept one another alive, he fretted momentarily on how vital the bond seemed to have become. He loathed needing anyone._

_But he couldn't follow any line of thinking for too long, exhausted as he was, dreams wove their way into his musings and the last thing he caught was a whispered "Thank you", before reality fell away._

* * *

**_Please review! _**


	5. Chapter 5

_**Hello,**_

_**In the interest of not being entirely ridiculous I've decided to break the sheer enormity of chapter five into four separate pieces. Thank you everyone for your wonderful reviews and astute and thorough feedback.**_

_**As before, this particular section requires a mature content warning for graphic (and I do mean graphic) adult content.**_

_**I do not own Harry Potter. If I did this would be part of the cannon and the series would become significantly less child-friendly.**_

* * *

_**Weapon**,** Chapter Five:Phātahā, Requiem**_

_He woke at sundown, crimson light filtered through the only gap in the drapes._

_He looked blearily around his room for a moment, trying to get his vision to focus, his head ached like it had been split open._

_To anyone who didn't have a vast knowledge of magical artifacts the objects lining the shelves would have appeared outlandishly odd. A glass jar of a glowing dark orange substance, liquid Fiendfyre from a journey to South America. It had been hell getting it all the way back to England without breaking the container but the rare opportunity to study the substance's properties was not one he was willing to pass up._

_On an unassuming perch in the corner lay a Katana from an old teacher that could cut through magic as if it were flesh. Incidentally, it did an excellent job of cutting through the latter as well. It had been forged with a portion of the steel that was amongst the loot of the first wizard to ever rob goblins. The little vermin would have happily slit his throat for it, as would most historians, it had remained hidden by the all-concealing hand of the organization for nearly eight hundred years. A pity he couldn't use it anymore..._

_A round cross section of what looked deceptively like an exceptionally pale piece of jade, the size of a Galleon, hung by a crimson ribbon from the ornate molding at the juncture of wall and ceiling. In reality it was a piece of the horn of the oldest breed of dragon known to man, a variety that existed almost exclusively in China at present. Their story, like that of many creatures, was a sad one, poaching and the like. The remaining population had fled to remote regions of their native land and though the government technically did nothing to protect them the humans that inhabited the villages near the dragons' dwellings worshipped them like gods, to try and hunt one would have been suicide._

_He had received the fragment from an elderly beast of nearly two thousand years called Shui Kan Dao Yige Mangren Quanbu, The Blind One Who Sees All, in exchange for the head of a man who had once attempted to kill him. Supposedly, it brought one hundred years of good luck to be offered a gift by a dragon._

_He knew from experience that was utter bullshit, but he kept it around just in case it proved useful somehow. And regardless he had rather enjoyed speaking with the creature, it had known so many secrets._

_From Rome a golden vial containing the blood of the victims from the earliest witch trial, confiscated by the Vatican and returned to wizardkind by a double agent, the secret behind many potions he had invented. Though the necessity for him to increase the size of the sample by magical means has caused it to lose power over time._

_An intricately painted pot from Giza that held a full twenty ounces of the sap of an elder tree, he intended to use it to discover if there were any observable benefits to contact with the substance. He would be glad when he had time to attend to the matter, the overly saccharine scent gave him a headache._

_The bed itself was unique, he had enchanted the drapery to form a solid wall when tied shut, the only way he could ever actually get any sleep at night. Otherwise every slightest sound kept him awake until dawn._

_The body beside him stirred slightly and now he took the time to examine their position._

_They were once again twined together but this was his first experience with it fully clothed. Her back was to him and the entire length of her body was pressed against his, he had an arm thrown around her waist and his chin rested on top of her head. They had not fallen asleep in that position, was it she who had sought contact? Or had he clung to her unconsciously? For comfort? His lip curled, he knew better than to look to others for security._

_The whole scene would have been so painfully cliche if it weren't for the glaring flaws in the picture._

_The first being the time of day, the twilight was hardly ambient unless ominous qualified as mood lighting. His ...Bellatrix...he still didn't have a word for what they were...looked like death warmed over. The both of them were covered in blood, most of it his own, he grimaced._

_He was, by nature, an extremely clean person and the coagulating fluid was horrifically uncomfortable, he needed to bathe._

_Carefully, he withdrew his arm and slipped from the bed, she stirred, and groaned drowsily in protest but did not wake. He padded quietly to the en suite and shut the door behind him, he found he did not require illumination just yet, not with the low angle of the falling sun._

_The water started itself and while the marble basin filled he stood contemplating the recent turn of events._

_She had a piece of his soul._

_And she had seemed very much aware of that fact._

_He shuddered involuntarily. He had actually risked his own life for another. Unknowingly perhaps, but he could have erred to the side of caution, as had always done when it came to safeguarding himself from death. He hadn't needed to save her, the logical part of his mind was screaming to have control returned to it immediately. She wasn't vital to his continued existence, or that of his operation, truthfully she might have been more helpful to them dead, without her strange afflictions to interfere with their purpose._

_And absolutely none of that had occurred to him several hours ago. He had acted purely on instinct, and as luck would have it the one that was favorable to her happened to be the most powerful, more so than even the one for survival._

_He buried his face in his hands, what the hell was wrong with him?_

_Was this that cursed magic the old man had always carried on about, the supposed power to trump all others?_

_But he was above such things, wasn't he?_

_Wasn't he?_

_He was, he reminded himself over and over. He was no fool. Surely his irrationality could be attributed to exhaustion. After all, he had made the journey to and from Cairo in the same day. Apparating any distance over two hundred miles in a single twenty four hour period was extremely ill-advised, and he had done twelve hundred. And the meeting itself had been rather taxing, he had barely avoided having a brigade of the other members demanding to go and collect her that very day._

_So of course she had seemed very important right then, he consoled himself, because she had already been in his thoughts prior to the incident._

_Simple psychology really._

_The strangeness needed to come to an end._

_He was sure she was keeping something vitally important from him, but when he wracked his mind for what that something might be there was no answer. Her sudden attempt at suicide in January he could satisfactorily explain in hindsight. It was likely she had felt her power growing beyond her capacity to control it and recognized the implications it would have on her health at a very early stage._

_In her mind a quick death by curse would have been preferable to wasting away one day at a time. She likely would have been reluctant to offer him an explanation because he would have insisted that they search for a solution when she haf already resigned herself to her fate. While that in and of itself infuriated him it was past and dwelling on it would only cloud his mind._

_What he could not discern was what else she was hiding, why she so carefully guarded herself against observance by anyone trained in recognizing ailments, and Snape was as talented as they came. All he knew was that her symptoms had increased dramatically since that first encounter and she didn't want anyone to know the cause, though he could not fathom what might be so terrible given that she was already dying._

_He stripped off his robes and dropped into the water, the lavishness of the tub was outrageous. The thing was at least three feet deep and likely six by six feet if not greater, opulence appeared to be an inherited trait._

_There was also the rather morbid query of why she hadn't tried to kill herself again, it would have been less painful that way. There was a part of him that took satisfaction in how his any and every wish was followed, but there was also a minuscule shred of something nagging and unpleasant._

_He could ignore it easily enough, but every once in a while it would remind him that it was still present, flaring if he caught her staring out the window with that lifeless look in her eyes that never failed to unsettle him, or woke in the night to hear her gasping for breath because her heart continued to weaken. The feelings were stupid, and pointless, he was doing her a favor by not eliminating her for her weakness and going as far as devoting time and resources to curing her of whatever mysterious ailment afflicted her._

_He swatted resentfully at the hot water, she could at least be grateful instead of having that kind of hair-trigger temper with him. Everything seemed to make her angry as of late, angry of melancholy. It was wearing at his nerves, she was his subordinate, she should be the one speaking careful words to him._

_In the greater scheme of things her timing could not have been worse. If she did anything truly destructive Ammen would come to claim her before even the meager amount of time he had negotiated for was up. Yet he could not warn her to control herself, or tell her to run, or to hide, or even what she faced. Anyone who was told of the organization disappeared. His only consolation was that she would die before she could be forced into the position he currently held. A poor comfort._

_The door opened and closed behind him and he turned to see Bellatrix herself standing at the edge of the tub._

_Completely naked._

_He was caught halfway between ire and lust as she smirked down at him insolently._

_Her body glittered with gold and vermillion in the half-light and her long curls draped her shoulders and swayed gently behind her back, his eyes roved her form hungrily._

_He stepped back from the edge to give her space to enter the tub. There was a small splash when her body slid into the water and she reached for him, he watched crystalline droplets trail downward over her stomach, into the hollow of her sharp hipbones, before it disappeared beneath the surface._

_He wrapped an arm around her waist and drew her small body to him, she complied easily and he felt her lean into the embrace._

_He rested the side of his face atop her head and allowed his eyes to fall closed, the sensation of her pressed against him was terribly erotic and he could feel himself hardening rapidly, anticipation mounting in the pit of his stomach but he forced himself to remain calm and still for the time being. Foremost he was entirely irate with her and she would know his displeasure._

_"You nearly killed me", he whispered into her hair. He felt her tense in his arms but he was careful to keep his grip lax, one of his hands roved her back, rubbed soothingly here and there, he carefully traced the outline of her left shoulder blade, he could feel her pulse flutter desperately, weak and off-tempo._

_"Forgive me", she murmured against the hollow of his throat, goosebumps broke out where her breath caressed his skin._

_"Not so easily Bella", he answered, still delicate and light in tone, but his voice had returned to it's customary frigid edge._

_"Are you going to hurt me?", she breathed and he could hear her fear._

_He considered, but decided against lying to her, "Yes", he replied quietly._

_She tried to wrench away but he held her there, his hand which had crept down to stroke her lower back seized her hip firmly and the other arm barred her rigidly from escape at her shoulders._

_"Please", she begged, but his anger and the feel of her helpless against him were too tempting._

_He had left his wand on the counter but he had been meaning to test a spell without it regardless._

_He pressed his lips to her forehead._

_"Crucio"._

_The effect was immediate and she cried out in pain and began thrashing furiously. The force of her struggling threw him off balance and he fell back against the opposite side of the basin, slid down against it, taking her with him. He felt her power pushing at it's restraints and the air began to twist and crackle, several of the smaller objects in the room trembled precariously._

_She may have been speaking protest but there was desire in her eyes and he noted the pupil was expanding again, he could hear softer but very present notes of pleasure in her pleading. The tips of her breasts had stiffened and without thinking he leaned down and closed his mouth over one._

_Her flesh was velvet beneath his lips and he drew his teeth lightly over the hardened peak, a drawn-out moan wrenched from her and he shuddered longingly at the sound. She tried one final time to pull away but he allowed his fingers to glide down, from the small of her back to her slender thigh and he used the leverage to wrap her long leg around him. He trailed kisses upward to her neck, enjoying the feel of her fear-spiked pulse fluttering beneath his tongue._

_Another shock of pain sent her straining against him and a cry ripped from his own throat when he felt her core brush against his rigid shaft, her flesh was heated and slick and the sensation had him rocking against her independent of his will, the soft murmurs that she made were fire in his veins. She moved again, so the tip of him was poised at her opening and a with a single thrust he would be inside her._

_He remained motionless, neither pulling away nor did he make that final surge upward that would have granted her wish. To torture her, and if he were to be honest, to indulge himself. He was a sadist, it was no secret, and watching her shake in delight, in agony, pushed that desperate want throbbing within him to previously uncharted heights._

_"Please", she whispered again. Her voice was thousand -aceted, or perhaps countless souls speaking in unison, he couldn't be sure. The mirror shuddered, then cracked, glass cascaded across the counter tops and onto the floor. The marble around them was starting to roil and shift, he looked up into her pitch dark eyes, nothing but the abyss of eternity, it was frightening, and curiously it egged him on further._

_It was the thrill, holding something so dangerous in his hands. She could bring the entire building, or even his whole life, crashing down around them in one fatal slip of concentration._

_But cataclysm never came, and still she hovered above him, the softness of her entrance against the weeping head of his member._

_He chuckled darkly and tore into her, an intense appreciation of the irony nearly brought a smile to his face, his hands brought her down upon him with a violent force, and he bit his lip to hold back another delighted sob, though he never allowed the curse to falter. She held him within her in a silken grip, tighter than a vice, the muscle flexing and clenching with every vicious stroke. Pain and ecstasy had her calling out, her volume rising in direct response to the merciless pace._

_His touch trailed below her hip and he gripped a smooth, firm buttock roughly, nearly laughing again when a surprised and utterly feminine whimper sounded near his ear._

_It was becoming overwhelming, the noises she made, the delicious, powerful grip around his pulsing flesh, and how she could lay above him, ride him, and yet she was completely at his mercy. Power and fear, intoxicating when combined in such a manner, he could bare no more._

_"Come", he hissed in her ear._

_That was all it took, her walls came down on him like velvet cloaked iron and her nails dug into his back, actually laying it open. The pain was ultimately what made him come apart, that_**_was_**_ a dirty secret of his, masochism. He could feel blood dripping down his shoulders, mixing with the water._

_It was how they communicated best. Pain had been how he taught her, he would not have bothered to enforce each lesson if he did not care. He did it because she was important to him, better he hurt her than allow her to go on unskilled and therefore vulnerable. He felt her grow stronger with each failure, until she no longer failed him at all._

_And she had understood that, never once questioned his motives, they were alike enough that she didn't need him to say it to know every punishment had been for her._

_Now he heard her clearly, passion, which he could make sense of, and an apology too, he only wished he knew exactly what it was she wanted to be forgiven for. For her regret threatened to drown him and it was terrifying,_

_He screamed then, not caring if anyone heard him or not, it was beautiful agony, searing, white hot. Finally his control over the spell broke, in the same instant that he flooded her still convulsing core._

_Small shudders, aftershocks, were working their way through his body when he withdrew from her. They remained in the water, weak and languid, panting, she broke the silence first._

_"I ought to provoke you more often"._

_He rolled his eyes, though he was having a very difficult time of feeling irritated at the moment, "That wasn't the point"._

_"If I tell you I've learned my lesson could we make that standard procedure", she was teasing him._

_He smirked, "It will depend if you've earned it", two could play at that game._

_"I'll certainly do my best", she assured him breathlessly._

_He lazily traced a drop of his own blood across the surface of the water, watching the substance spread like smoke tendrils in the wind. He caught a glimpse of their reflections, her dark, wild curls swaying in the tiny currents as reeds would, his too-bright blue eyes staring intently, he let his thin eyelids fall over them, he did not need to be reminded of his reflection. He was strange, he knew that, vanity had been one of many sacrifices that he had made willingly in pursuit of eternal life, he did not regret the loss of his human mask. He was marked, different outwardly as he was within._

_But this was not a place that he wanted to dwell on his terrifying appearance. He looked to the woman beside him, who was scrubbing at her skin, trying to scrape off the evidence of a near death experience and an abrupt liaison, and wondered how she had overcome the ingrained fear human beings had of the unusual._

_He entered her mind, partially out of curiosity, to see what she saw when she looked upon him, and partially to reassure himself that he could. The deepest layers were guarded heavily, as he suspected would always be the case, but it was easy to look through her eyes, vision was a constant, information fed around the clock, easily accessed._

_What he saw was startling. It was himself and it was not. He recognized the reflection, but the lens through which he looked had altered the image in invisible ways, so that the ultimate effect was quite different from the reality._

_The being he saw was not held to human standards, it looked like an alien. Massively tall, long limbed, slender, and delicate. It's colorless skin glowed faintly in the near-dark, marred only by long trails of torn flesh across the span of it's shoulders and back, where Bellatrix had clawed at him, the blood trailing from the fresh wounds almost looked black._

_It's chest was rising and falling rapidly and he imagined for a moment that he could see a racing heart through it's translucent skin, the frail layers of atrophying muscle. But that wasn't possible, he had no heart. The beautiful alien lifted an elegant hand to his breast and prodded at the space below his left collar bone anxiously, assurance that he was indeed still alive. The elongated body slackened a little and settled gracefully back against the tub wall. He pulled his mind from hers._

_So that was how she viewed him. The image was inaccurate to say the least, but, he supposed it was more flattering than a mirror._

_How different individual perceptions made the world seem. Surely she was the only one who could look upon his current incarnation and see something desirable. He would have loved to see someone ordinary through her eyes, so he could know if she were just too forgiving or if her ideas of pretty and ugly were entirely backward._

_"I truly am sorry", she murmured after a long and comfortable silence. Her face was grave, and sad. He frowned, it sounded like she was trying to say goodbye._

_"Why are you telling me this now?", he responded, wishing for all the world that he could forget she was slipping away for even a moment._

_"I'm sorry you were hurt for my sake, I don't deserve it", it was not alright but he couldn't hate her for it either._

_"It will be worth it if you live", he said pointedly. Not acceptable, but at least necessary._

_For the span of an instant her face shone one part joy and one part agony and she opened her mouth as if to say something difficult._

_But in the next she seemed to remember herself and so she only reiterated, "I'm sorry". He watched her extricate her too-thin form from the water and wrap her shoulders in her robes for warmth. She did not look at him as she swept from the room._

* * *

_**Hooray! Now Chapter 5 doesn't take an hour to read! : )...**_


	6. Chapter 6

_**The second section of the **_**_ferocious beast that was the original Chapter 5. This section is liable to come under further revision as I'm seeing a flaw frequently sited within it. _**

**_There are no warnings to issue for this chapter other than a very small amount of violence and perhaps a mention of some sensitive subject matter. _**

**_I still do not own Harry Potter._**

* * *

_**Weapon, Chapter Six:Guru kē śikṣaka, Teacher of the Master**_

_Voldemort sat on the steps to the Buddhist temple, his arms wrapped tightly around himself to keep out the cold. No matter that it was late April, in the Himalayas altitude dictated the temperatures, and from his current position Mount Everest was close enough to block the glow of a brilliant sun rise._

_He was grateful for his decision to wear the heavy cloak of the organization, at six and a half feet tall and one hundred sixty pounds, give or take a little, keeping warm was something of a challenge. The black fabric was dense, and lined with fur, tailored precisely to his height, the hem just skimmed the ground when he walked, and fastened all the way up the front with a series of silver buckles that were purely decorative, a zipper, concealed by the overlapping fabric, held the garment closed. He flexed his large hands inside his close fitted gloves, a gift from Nicolo during a mission to the Swiss Alps, the perfect combination of protection and dexterity. They were also enchanted, so he could grip anything and never slip, a feature that he put to use often. For all it's convenience, Apparation was far too conspicuous. Many locations had wards and detectors that would easily catch an individual materializing because the increased energy levels were readily detectable by magical means. However if one were practiced at keeping their magic tightly controlled, as he was, it was quite simple to infiltrate an area by doing something as straightforward as scaling a wall and slipping in through a window._

_One couldn't be an internationally wanted criminal without knowing a thing or two about breaking and entering. Or quick escapes for that matter, he had once used the gloves to climb the observation windows in the Ministry of Magic's central atrium and exit out the skylight._

_He really ought to thank the Italian for them._

_The door to the temple opened and he leapt up, taking the remaining stairs two at a time. If the monks thought his presence odd they did nothing to indicate so, and moreover his unique appearance startled no one, a welcome break from the poorly-concealed gawking he usually received. He loathed the blatant gape that always came with a first meeting and the predictable internal dialogue that accompanied it, alarm, incredulity, discomfort. Honestly, if he constituted that much of an anomaly then the populace on the whole needed to get out more._

_He nodded in greeting when he saw faces he recognized. He did not pause to talk however, he had come with a purpose, to seek the council of the other member of his team, Hama. A prodigious witch, trained in the way of the Shaolin monks, as well as a master of the forbidden arts._

_She had been his first mentor after he joined the organization. Unlike the professors of Hogwarts she had understood him, that his mind was open, and she taught him thousands of things from magicians around the globe. She did not waste his time with slow, progressively building lessons. Rather she gave him the most difficult magic she knew and told him to study until he found a way to accomplish it. When he succeeded he would go before her and demonstrate. She would either approve and help him fine-tune the technique or tell him to go back and gather more knowledge._

_The result was an ironclad foundation in control of his power. Hama didn't so much teach about how to do spells as how to feel the energy within himself and how it interacted with the world around him. A radically different approach to what he had been exposed to at the time, and exactly what he had needed._

_He was grateful to her, not obligated, but truly grateful. It was she who had guided him when he found himself not even in his sixth year of school and bound by his very life to an ancient and powerful syndicate. He had thought himself prepared for anything, by the end of his fourth year he had grown restless with mere lessons, by that summer he couldn't imagine how he would stand to wait another two years before the future began. Oh the arrogance of a child!_

_Suddenly his life transitioned from a monotony of homework and pretending to be entertained by the mind-numbing companionship of his spoiled housemates to tracking targets for days at a time, espionage, stealing priceless artifacts, assassinating people he had never even heard of because Ammen said that they were in the way. He had made his first kill before he turned sixteen._

_The first time he had been a complete wreck, not during the mission, no, he had managed to keep a flawless facade of utter apathy. And his victim had screamed at him, he could still remember the man's words as if it were yesterday, "Look at those eyes of yours! Empty! You are nothing! Kill as many as you like, the void within you can only grow!"._

_And because he couldn't use magic outside school he had said nothing to him, only slit his throat with a sickeningly steady hand that did not feel like his own._

_He had only just reached the privacy of an alleyway before he had crumpled to the ground, his back against the wall and the bloody razor blade digging into his trembling fingers. His chest heaving, trying to draw in as much air as possible, but he found it was too thin to breathe, he was going to suffocate, he was certain of it. He gasped and pulled up the sleeve of the cloak Ammen had given him after his initiation, the very same one he would wear far into adulthood, and drew the knife over his forearm, deep, too deep, he hadn't meant to cut the muscle fiber. He shrieked and threw the weapon as far away from himself as he could._

_It hadn't helped, as a classmate had once claimed it would. Instead of calm he just felt worse. The terrible pounding and spinning of his head hadn't ceased, and now, as if that weren't enough, white-hot shocks of pain were racing up his right arm._

_And then he had felt a hand on his shoulder, and he had looked up into a pretty, gently-featured, face. "Calm down", she had instructed, "Just breathe, you have done well", she wore the uniform of the organization._

_She had taken his injured arm and tutted, as if he were a much younger child who had hurt themselves during play by accident. She pressed her wand to the abrasion and traced over it once, the entire limb had jerked in violent recoil but her grip was shockingly powerful and she held him still easily. When he was lucid again the wound was gone._

_He flexed his hand and winced, the function was present in full but it was still agony to disturb the area._

_"Phantom pains", she had supplied calmly at the sight of his discomfort, "A trick of the mind. It helps if you tell yourself it isn't real"._

_He tried to carefully lay the appendage in his lap without aggravating the nerve endings that resided there, he flinched again, "Is that so?", he sneered maliciously. Or tried to, it came out a weak, breathless gasp as the sensation redoubled._

_She laughed, her voice heavy with irony, "No, but I thought if you believed that it might have worked"._

_"Clever", he offered, his tone stating clearly that he thought otherwise. He wanted to be left alone, was it too much to ask to have a panic attack in peace?_

_As if she had read his mind (he would later discover that she had), she shook her head at him apologetically, "You can't just stay here, that man you killed had allies and they will want the one responsible for his loss"._

_"I didn't use magic", he interrupted through tightly clenched teeth, feeling his intelligence had been insulted, he knew he had the Trace, it didn't require restating._

_"It does not matter", she told him, her tone sharper, not like the razor but perhaps a sword, "If you think for a moment that magic is the only way to track, you will be hunted down and eliminated. Their people are talented"._

_He tensed at that, his brow drawing together, confused, and suspicious, "Who are they?", he demanded._

_She ignored his bad manners and replied, "A faction that broke off of our group. You needn't concern yourself with them, they are few, we are many, we will wipe them out. Now," her voice softened again, though the effect was not comforting, he loathed being spoken down to, "Why don't you come with me?"._

_He considered her wearily, disliking how she spoke to him as if he were ignorant. However unfortunate idiosyncrasies aside, she appeared honest in her desire to help him. He was uncertain how, but he always knew it if he was being lied to, and at the moment that sense lay untripped._

_"Alright"._

_Her grip tightened and he started when they both began to dissolve, perhaps he shouldn't go with her after all..._

_But it was far too late to change his mind, his senses faded, for he had no ears or eyes. He drifted, one with the wind, an unseen force pulling him along who knew where, he was too preoccupied with the sense of weightlessness to care._

_And then he slammed back into his own body, returning to flesh and blood with an agonizing jolt, he stumbled and fell to his knees. His hands sinking into the frigid ground beneath him, curiously soft and malleable._

_Snow._

_He lifted a fistful and examined it, the pristine, white crystals numbing his bare skin. He deposited it on the site where he had injured himself, happy for anything to relieve it._

_The woman raised her eyebrows at him bemusedly, "I have medical equipment", she offered, her tone half amused, half skeptical at his strange behavior. He did not reply, just continued to take in his surroundings with wide eyes. A massive turret stood at the center of a large, flat rock face suspended between two tremendous peaks. The tower was ornate, the architecture unlike anything he had ever seen. A perfect square that rose many stories toward the crystal sky, each floor adorned with a balcony covered by canopies that swept outward like a ship's sails._

_"Where are we?" he demanded as he traced patterns in the blood soaked ice._

_"You're in Tibet, in the Devanagari range. See that mountain over there?", she pointed somewhere behind him, he followed her finger to the tallest mountain for as far as the eye could see, it seemed to extend into space itself. Looming, elephantine, dark stone encrusted with glaciers as old as time, achingly beautiful in the setting sun._

_"We call her holy mother"._

_He could only sit transfixed, "Mount Everest", he whispered._

_"Your people call it that, yes". She did not sound pleased that he used the western title. But of course Britain had made many enemies in this part of the world, taking the land from the natives, their resources, renaming their sacred sites. Muggles, they were like a plague, no stopping them, no containing them, a cancer. They fought one hundred wars for every one wizard nations engaged in._

_"What is her true name?", it was obviously dearly important to her._

_"Sagarmatha", the woman smiled widely, obviously pleased with his response. Her eyes swept over him where he sat, depleted and half-soaked in the snow, clearly looking for something. She lingered upon his face the longest, appraising it carefully. He could feel her gaze upon each feature, his harsh jaw, his overlong dark hair, his colorless complexion, his bizarre, too-bright, eyes. But she must have approved because she nodded to herself resolutely._

_"That was an excellent kill", she shared at length, "No struggle, no excessive bloodshed, he died instantly, because you cut in precisely the correct location. But you forgot one thing", she nodded toward his hands, bare, and going numb as the precious little heat left with the daylight, "Gloves. You left fingerprints". He scowled, he held no desire to hear criticism of his work, he just wanted to forget about it as quickly as possible and pretend it was all a dream._

_"I can see you're afraid", she shared conversationally, as if she were remarking on the weather, "And you should be, you're a wanted man until the day you die now", he didn't bother to correct her on that score, "But you can't be weak, the world will eat you alive. Understand?"._

_She was right of course, he had made a potentially fatal mistake in his panic. Yet, what was it to her? Why care about a sloppy kid she had never spoken with in her life? He was a no one to her, a complete stranger. He could see no reasoning behind it..._

_"Why are you helping me?", he pressed, unable to contain the question._

_Her full, dark mouth curled disdainfully, "I know what he did to you", he blanched, how had she discovered him so easily, it was humiliating, the way he had been manipulated._

_"Who else knows?", he spat resentfully, a member for only a month and no doubt already the laughing stock of the organization._

_She shushed, seeing his emotions rising again, in a maternal sort of manner that took him by surprise, "Control yourself. Use your mind, be rational. He is ashamed that he had to trick you, you, a child", her laughter fell cold on his ears like the ice that had fallen all around the plateau, "He fears you"._

_Her smile was almost savage in it's mask of satisfaction, clearly she held a long standing grudge against the man they called leader. For that he felt an instant kinship with the woman who had saved him, a true rarity._

_Yet he did not understand why she believed he could frighten Ammen, the only true immortal in existence, she knew nothing of him. "How would you know that?", incredulity forced his voice even sharper._

_"I see what you are and what you could become", and to his surprise her exotic face lit in real happiness, "You're extremely talented"._

_And so it had begun. He never did ask if he had become the person she had envisioned that day. He suspected that he dreaded the answer too much._

_"Riddle-sama!", a child's voice called shrilly, startling him back to reality. He turned to see a young girl in white robes running toward him, her shaved head still bearing characters drawn by a brush with a red paste, her soft, japanese feature alight with excitement._

_It was Yume, Hama's niece. He felt a stab of pity for the child. Or rather, Yume was not a child at all, Yume had taken ill with Lymphoma at the age of twelve and the things her aunt had done to save her had frozen her in time. The girl hadn't aged a day in nearly ninety years._

_"Yume", a half smile touched his lips, the child was audacious, opinionated, and self-righteous. A result of life experience combined with the emotional and mental maturity of a pre-teen. He liked her regardless, she was also infinitely enthusiastic, helpful, even encouraging if one like her could be called such a thing. She lived with her aunt in the secluded temple, high above northern India, because her stunted development had left her magic sporadic, and weak. She was not dangerous in the manner Bella was, but that didn't make her any less a threat to the International Statute of Secrecy._

_She would never be a fully-fledged witch, it wasn't for lack of trying, it was the simple fact that she could never develop further. It was safer for everyone if she stayed far away from ordinary Muggles and their cities._

_If Hama was his elder, Yume was a younger sister, she got away with offending him in ways that he would have killed his Death Eaters for, but he indulged her because one could not help but be wrapped around her finger. She could charm anyone with a single bat of her eyes, it was a tremendous gift, like the universe compensated the loss of her magical abilities by making her witty and effortlessly manipulative._

_She reminded him of himself in some ways._

_He had grown up with Yume, at first he hadn't known what to make of the outgoing pre-teen that seemed to find a way to insert herself into many of his daily activities. She was overly talkative and seemed to love nothing better than to provoke him, only after many months of wishing the girl would stumble off of the edge of a cliff did he finally realize that the more he reacted the more aggravating Yume became. Hama had pulled him aside shortly thereafter and explained the girl's situation to him, "Be good to her", she had implored, "She respects you far more than you realize"._

_After that he had payed closer attention and found Yume's obnoxious behavior could readily be explained as an inept show of affection. Furthermore, once he deduced that she often said the exact opposite of what she thought of someone he found she could be rather amusing. Then one day he had finally laughed and taunted her back and that had set the tone for their interactions for decades to come._

_"I didn't know you were coming!", she smiled up brilliantly, not a shiver from her even though there was snow all around them and she was wearing nothing but a cotton sari._

_"I'm a surprise, is your aunt present?", he asked, trying to bypass the extensive catching up that he knew she was hoping for. He was on much too tight a schedule for casual chatter, he just needed to get the advice he had come for and get back as swiftly as possible._

_"I'm excellent thank you for asking", her lips had pursed unhappily. The nice thing about Yume was that she picked up on subtle cues right away, Hama had a similar knack for reading people that upon consideration he realized was probably the culprit behind her uncanny aptitude for Legilemency. Though, in all truth Hama rarely even had need for it, she could pick a mind apart with charisma alone._

_The aggravating thing about Yume was that she lacked the restraint necessary to stop herself jumping to conclusions, often reacting long before her unfortunate victim could even begin to explain._

_"Sukoshi Gaichu", he sighed, "We will talk one day, but I can't idle now. Time is a precious luxury I do not have"._

_Her smile returned at once, though her expression spoke something less innocent than surprise, "You look nervous", she observed, sounding disproportionately delighted given the nature of the remark, "Are you finally going to ask aunt Hama to marry you?"._

_He rolled his eyes, she knew full well he would regard his old mentor in that manner the day the mountains surrounding them spontaneously combusted but it was a joke over twenty years running and had been the source of more than one rarely indulged in moment of sheer amusement. Some bonded through exchanging sentiments or gifts, they bonded by good naturedly ridiculing one another._

_For that reason he summoned the will to lift a cold stiffened hand to his chest in an overly dramatic fashion and proclaim, "You've seen through me again" with as much enthusiasm as one might show preparing for an invasive procedure._

_She snorted, "That's the most apathetic thing I've ever heard, honestly, I don't know why your woman puts up with you"._

_He frowned, "Pardon?"._

_Yume quickly grew agitated with his lack of comprehension, "Your girlfriend! You and Oba-Chan showed me a picture once", she stamped her foot irritably, "The tall one? Pretty? Black Hair? Scary eyes?..."_

_"Bellatrix is not my girlfriend", he stated firmly. He didn't have a clue what they were supposed to be to one another, the term that came to mind was dysfunctional..._

_The young girl looked confused, "Oh", her brow scrunched, "I thought you liked her?"._

_"What in the world gave you that idea?", he could only recall mentioning Bella in front of Yume once, quite a few years prior._

_Her sepia eyes narrowed agitatedly a moment before her expression softened again, "Se no Takai Gaichu-Sama", she teased, "She is inside, I will take you"._

_She turned on her heel and bounded toward a pair of gold double doors that stood at the front of the ornate, turret-like building. She did not knock, she threw the doors open with a great gusto and called into the dimmed and smokey hall, "Oba-chan! We have a visitor!"._

_The smell of incense flooded his nose the moment he stepped inside, he glanced around at the gaudy tapestries and carvings fondly. His bulky traveling boots scuffed at the gleaming, lacquered floor as he slipped among massive pillars. Along the walls was a most unusual adornment, a band of text from a French literary work in Burmese wound all the way around the cavernous room._

_Beneath the heavy canopy_  
_Where the white jasmine_  
_Blends with the rose_  
_On the flowering bank_  
_Laughing at the dawn_  
_Come, let us drift down together_

_It was just such a characteristically Hama thing to put in a tibetan buddhist monastery that he chuckled and sang under his breath,_

_Sous le dome épais_  
_Ou le blanc jasmin_  
_A la rose s'assemble_

_Sur la rive en fleurs_

_Riant au matin_

_Viens, descendons ensemble_

_Yume giggled behind him, "You know it?", she asked incredulously, "Some Englishman you are"._

_He sneered without any real malice, "My first love is knowledge", he stated flatly, "It's source is meaningless to me"._

_He was sure the little girl would have retaliated, but the debate was cut short by the sound of bare feet tripping lightly over the ground, Hama had emerged from behind the twenty foot shrine at the front of the room._

_She was tiny, five foot three at most, and perhaps one hundred pounds. Her face was beautiful, tanned, and delicate in it's construction, framed by long, straight, black hair that lay heavy and smooth. She wore the same cloak as he, standard issue for all members of the organization, it looked foreign and harsh in this place of cedar and fire light._

_Her appearance was so deceptive, she was pushing one hundred and twenty, though she could easily have passed for thirty. She, like himself and her niece, was functionally immortal._

_She claimed Mount Everest had granted her eternal life, though he was skeptical of her story, for the great summit had no magic of it's own. Whatever she had done she had payed a price, the change had rendered her infertile. While it would have meant less than nothing to him, he saw how Hama lived for Yume and cared for him like her own as well and wondered how she could bear it._

_She looked him up and down and her brow furrowed, "Tom!", she cried, sounding scandalized, "Get your shoes off of my floor!", she pushed him back toward the entrance irritably, "Baka! What is wrong with you!"._

_She thrust her finger at a sign hanging just inside the door that stated in Burmese, Hindi, and Chinese to remove one's footwear before proceeding any further, "I know you can read all of those", she snapped._

_"It's good to see you again as well", he replied dryly as he kicked off his boots and left them on the river stone in the foyer._

_She huffed at him, "Why have you come?", she asked wearily._

_"I need your help", he murmured, "My circumstances have changed"._

_Her eyes widened and her tiny hand closed around his wrist in a surprisingly powerful grasp, he flinched almost imperceptibly. She turned away from him and half marched, half dragged him in the direction of the staircase at the back of the altar._

_He wrenched his arm out of her grip, "What are you doing?", he demanded. Fearing that after so many years of trust she had finally betrayed him to their leader._

_"We need to talk in private, it's not safe here", she rolled her eyes like it was the most obvious thing in the world and began bounding upward._

_He breathed a sigh of relief, he was unsure what the outcome would be if he fought her. A sad commentary in and of itself, three decades ago he could have defeated her easily._

_"Ah", he nodded and followed suit. He knew what she had meant, Ammen had ears and eyes everywhere, and while Hama had taken every measure to ensure her sanctuary remained just that, there was no promise that they would not be spied on._

_When they had ascended perhaps three or four stories Hama glanced over her shoulder at him with a knowing look on her face, "Her?", she questioned expectantly._

_"Her" he confirmed._

_They reached the highest floor of the temple, Hama's personal rooms. He took a seat on a cushion that sat before a low table without being invited. It would have been unforgivably rude if he hadn't done it hundreds of times before._

_"Forgive me", she told him earnestly, "I could not take the chance that Yume would overhear. If he ever thought that she knew anything...", she shook her head and trailed off._

_If Ammen ever believed that the child knew secrets, or of their movements against him, Yume's life would be destroyed. Either he would tear through her like she was nothing, or he would bind her to the organization like he had done to them._

_It was the same hell he fought to save Bella from, "I understand completely", he answered with equal sincerity._

_"Tea?", she inquired as she threw off the cloak, beneath it was the rest of the uniform. A loose pair of slacks and a simple short sleeved shirt, both very plain, though they were made out of the most luxuriant cloth one could dream of. He wore exactly the same thing beneath his own robe. The only difference was that she wore a piece of ivory around her neck with kanji that spelled out her name on a necklace and the tattoo of a spider rested just below her collarbone, an unnervingly life-like depiction of a black widow. By contrast he wore no adornment, just the Dark Mark on the interior of his left arm._

_"Please", he nodded and turned his attention to the scene outside._

_Around a dozen young magicians were hard at work practicing, he busied himself with observing their technique as they attempted to execute a wandless, non-verbal, reductor curse. Hama didn't believe in incantations. The wizard's opiate was what she called them, the phrase stemmed from her belief that the need for words was an illusion that only fostered unnecessary dependency._

_The Reductor Curse had always been something of a specialty of his, simply for the unbridled force that it required combined with the precise control of magnitude and timing. He spotted flaws in each approach as he watched, one concentrated too intently to feel what the spell ought to be, another was so sloppy about it he might as well have been blindfold._

_"Have you spoken with Acharya lately? He asks about you.", her light, girlish voice questioned as she lowered the leaves into the boiling water, pulling him from his musings._

_"I've been too busy for anything like that of late, I barely had time to write you", he answered tiredly. Acharya was the leader of the Shaolin Warrior's temple through which he had gained all of his ability in physical combat, as had Bellatrix, it had been the final stage of her training._

_The warrior's believed that for a wizard or witch, there were two sides to mastering one's gifts. The first was the method taught to all pupils in schools across the globe, ownership of the mind, the theoretical knowledge, the ability to cast spells of relatively low power correctly and consistently._

_The opposite face of the coin was mastering the body, the instrument through which energy flowed freely. All magical individuals demonstrated a natural inclination for this until they were taught the so called "correct" way to use their power. Often wizarding children found they could run faster, jump higher, etc. but after their education they were no longer attuned to their own bodies and how to use the potential within. It had taken himself nearly a year to be able to utilize magic as part of his physical being again after he had begun training with the monks. Partially because they had been aghast at the state of his soul when they assessed him and refused to teach him, saying that a fractured human could not learn, it was only after he demonstrated his ability to vaporize into smoke that they had agreed._

_But they gave him a new name,_**_ Jo puri nahim hai_**_, one who is not whole._

_Bellatrix had taken to it easily, she had, had fewer years behind her to dilute her memory and a fully intact soul. Her talent for the technique was unheard of, the proof being that she had only several days prior thrown a knife with perfect accuracy sixty feet across a room while on the verge of passing out._

_His capacity to compartmentalize had allowed him to be irate and impressed with her all at once._

_"Well you should contact him when you can. You're making him anxious", she reprimanded gently, "You know how perceptive he is, he can feel that something is wrong. You ought to just explain, keeping him in the dark won't stop him being worried"._

_"The fewer people that know the better", he deadpanned, "I won't drag him into this", he didn't need one more person that could be used against him._

_"But he fears-", she protested._

_"I know he senses the danger. But at least he's safe if he is ignorant. Tell me Hama, would Ammen stop at anything to have Bellatrix?", he demanded fiercely._

_She sighed and filled two cups with steaming tea, she snapped her china doll's fingers and they levitated their way to the table and settled themselves, one before him, one across from him at her place. She padded over and settled herself gracefully on the other pillow._

_"He wants her badly, Tom. I know it isn't what you want to hear, but I don't think it's avoidable", her voice was distant, and distinctly laced with pity._

_"Don't speak like it has already happened, I won't allow it", he bit out._

_"But you promised him you would", she murmured, "Don't you see that there is no choice, he wants you dead! You're the only one of us strong enough to pose a threat, he's terrified of you!", she implored, "If you defy him you break oath, you'll be gone before you can even raise your wand!"._

_And he knew it. Surely as Hama sat across from him he knew that Ammen would kill him, that his time was almost up. He had spent nearly all of his life looking for a way to avoid death and now that he was staring it in the eye he was not incapacitated as he had always assumed he would be._

_He was angry. Knowing he could count the remaining weeks of his life on one hand had sparked a tremendous will to shape the last of his legacy to his liking. He could not control how long he had left, but he could control what he left behind. He refused to simply blink out of existence as small, weak stars did, disappearing into the cold vacuum of space, forgotten by the relentless march of time._

_No, he would go the way of the most distant suns, a supernova, giving one last brilliant roar of life and scattering, perhaps reshaped, but never really gone._

_"Damn you Tom! You're my friend, I don't want to go to your funeral", she took a breath to steady herself, "This isn't you. You aren't reckless with your own life. What's wrong with you?"._

_"I'm tired of groveling at his feet, this is my one chance to strike back at him", he snarled, temper rising, "He wants me to break, I will not. He wants my apprentice to have for a weapon, he can not."_

_"But if you fight-", she began frantically._

_"He made me forge another vow!", he spat furiously, watching her cover her mouth in horror, "I swore that my nation will have been conquered by the seventh of May", he laughed bitterly, "Obviously, given the state of things that isn't likely to happen"._

_Comprehension dawned slowly on her face._

_"Doubtful I'm much longer for this world", he could scarcely believe how calm he was able to make himself sound as he suppressed a shiver of fear._

_"What about your Horcruxes?", she grasped for some hope to hold on to, "I thought you couldn't die?"._

_He shook his head, "You're forgetting Ammen was the one who showed me how to create them in the first place. He will have a fail safe, otherwise demanding I shackle myself would have been pointless"._

_"What he did to you was wrong", her face was suddenly tense and angry, "You were just a child"._

_"Sixteen is not so young, I find the least likely threat is always the most serious", he smirked sardonically and picked up his tea cup._

_Despite the gravity of the situation Hama laughed, "You have personal experience with that, do you?", she teased._

_He snorted, "I swear, if I could bottle an ounce of that brat's luck I would never have to exert effort another day in my life, success would fall from the sky"._

_"Is it that bad?", she probed._

_"You have no idea", he groused._

_"Offer him in your student's place", she said abruptly, like it were the most obvious thing in the world._

_He blinked, that was absolutely..._

_...brilliant..._

_...Two birds, one stone..._

_Another incentive to capture Potter, as if he needed one. Everything always seemed to revolve ultimately around the boy, like the universe was simply determined he would be it's center. He could admit that, his ego did not blind him, the magic simply loved Potter, he drew it like a magnet._

_"There is that other complication I've shared with you", he answered archly, not ready to hope just yet, "She is dying too". Finally he touched on the reason for his visit, he had a plan to deal with Ammen, perhaps it was far from ideal but given the circumstances it was damned effective. The mystery was Bellatrix, Hama was also female, wouldn't it stand to reason that she could make sense of his apprentice's strange behavior?_

_"Tell me her symptoms again?", she queried._

_He gave her the entire, painfully long, list._

_"How old is she?", she asked almost immediately thereafter._

_"Fifty", he responded._

_She snorted, "Cradle robber", she teased, but made no further comment._

_Hama cast her gaze downward, looking thoughtful. She chewed a perfect fingernail and began muttering to herself in rapid Japanese. He could have kept up if he had tried but he was confident that if she had something important to say she would state it more clearly._

_She seemed to struggle for words momentarily as she asked in a manner that indicated she feared the answer, "What is the nature of your relationship with her?"._

_He gaped,"What do you mean by that?", he snapped, perhaps more defensively than he should have._

_"How intimate is it?", she restated, so matter of factly that it made him feel monumentally immature for being embarrassed at the question._

_"I fail to see how that is relevant". Merlin, was he truly that obvious?_

_The woman smirked at him knowingly, "I'll take that as my answer. I was worried that was the case"..._

_After a drawn out pause in which he nearly drained his glass she opened her mouth and said, "Bring her to me", it was not a request, "I may be able to help"._

_"She won't go easily", he said wearily, "We haven't been able to get her anywhere near a healer in the last three months"._

_"No I would think not", she murmured unhelpfully._

_He did not like the way she was staring at him, like he had done something incomparably stupid and should have known better._

_..."Are you certain you can not connect the pieces of this puzzle yourself?", her skeptical expression only intensified his frustration._

_"I can not", his voice was cold, every one of his instincts was telling him the answer should have been a simple one, but he simply could not draw a conclusion. He had no desire to hear her reiterate what he had already come to realize._

_She sighed, "It is not my place to provide the answer", her expression was sympathetic, "Just ensure that she will come, I believe if she does that much, you will understand in time"._

_He pinched the place where the bridge of his nose should have been exasperatedly, condemning the people closest to him with a terrible vehemence. Would it really be the apocalypse if something went smoothly for him? He loathed this web of secrets being woven all around him. He hated the unknown, how vulnerable it made him feel, how he had to depend on them to discover the answers, how he could not simply take it for himself._

_And then Hama looked up and said something incomprehensible, cryptic, maddening. It lingered in his mind on the return journey and through the next night, and he could not sleep for wondering. He puzzled over it with an aching consciousness in pale moonlight. He sat on the window seat in his room, sharing his attention between the way the light reflected off of Bellatrix's pale cheek as she slept and a bird outside that never seemed to come near enough for him to discern it's type._

_"I envy you"._

* * *

**_Jeez, this part alone was six and a half thousand words. Hopefully it is less painful to muddle through now. _**


	7. Chapter 7

_**The third portion carved out of what used to be Chapter 5 and the longest if the four at seven and a half thousand words. This part is a bit of a monster in and of it's self.**_

_**Another mature content warning for more graphic sexual content.**_

_**I do not own Harry Potter.**_

* * *

_**Weapon, Chapter Seven: Lagabhaga, Almost**_

_He remained that way for hours, staring out the window at nothing, wondering. Feeling so strong, and so afraid. He thought he should probably find something to occupy himself with because he couldn't stand biding his time but he couldn't move either._

_What he had told Hama hadn't been false confidence, he would fight, for whatever semblance of a life he had managed to carve out for himself, he would fight. Because it was never going to stop, the only freedom for him came from death. Ammen had taken his humanity away, he could never have it back and after all he had done he wouldn't want it anyway, but what small triumphs were his he would not part with easily._

_But that didn't mean he wasn't subject to weakness, not even Hama had been kind enough to strip him of that feeling. It was sick, how he could sit and tremble yet he could not find empathy enough within himself to pity the many that faced the same fate. Bellatrix, her incomparable grace as she waited to die, she could never be conquered, that was truly worth envying. Why couldn't he have that?_

_So many had been so very eager to mold and direct him, yet none had done what they ought to. Slowly but surely each removed a layer of something that made him ordinary. He could not pity, or empathize, or even attempt to connect with those around him. But no one had bothered to remove the part of him that wished he could. Instead they had each in turn cursed him to walk the line between human and whatever was not human._

_A rattling breath behind him announced that she had awoken. He turned in time to see Bellatrix push herself up into a sitting position and adjust the blankets around her shoulders. She leaned back against the headboard and smiled drowsily, "You're back"._

_He nodded, "I just got in a few hours ago"._

_"How was whatever you were doing?", she seemed unbothered by his brief answers. He liked that she didn't try to make him talk more._

_"I need to discuss that with you, actually", he answered. He crossed the room and sat beside her, she rested her head on his shoulder and he absent-mindedly toyed with a strand of her long hair. He wondered when they had arrived at the point that so much contact felt so natural._

_She looked surprised, "I didn't mean to pry", she supplied quickly, "I was only glad to see you"._

_She must have thought the question upset him, "I know that. And in any case it is you I intended to talk about, my privacy is irrelevant"._

_He felt her tense, like she was bracing herself for physical pain, "What is it?", even her voice was nervous._

_"I think I've found a way to save you"._

_"What-", she began but he raised a hand to silence her._

_"I know a woman who is an extremely competent healer. She has invited you to reside with her until you recover", again she began to interrupt and he cut her off, "I want you to go Bella. I'll not negotiate"._

_"Where would I be going?" she questioned at length._

_His mouth pulled upward slightly, "Back to the mountains"._

_Her lips parted in surprise, "You don't mean-"._

_"Near Mount Everest, yes". The Himalayas were something like holy ground for her, they had spent the final six months of her training there with Acharya and his monks and she had told him more than once that it was the happiest time of her life. If anywhere could help Bellatrix it was that hallowed land._

_He could still remember as if it had only occurred yesterday the manner in which she had gotten her first look at the peak. She was probably the only person in existence to say that her initial exposure had been from the top of the mountain looking down._

_They had been traveling for many months, and it had been eight since they had crossed through southern Thailand and taken a ferry across the vast gulf separating Southeast Asia and the Indian subcontinent. They had docked in Madras and cut east to Bangalore, the city of gardens, before making the long trek north to the Nepalese capital of Kathmandu where they would restock on supplies in anticipation of the ten thousand foot climb to join the warriors at Oracle Lake._

_They had broken down their camp near a stream at the northernmost part of the Ganges River Valley and she had been impatient to begin their ascent into the the Devanagari Mountains. It was ungodly early, the stars had only just begun to fade from the sky and yet they had to move quickly or they would miss it._

_Instead of gathering their things as they always did he had instructed her to layer the heaviest clothing she possessed and she had been confused because they were nowhere near the snow-line but she had done as instructed._

_One of the things he had come to appreciate about Bellatrix was that she did not spend hours fussing with her appearance. Partially because she was a natural beauty to begin with, but primarily because she recognized that there were more important things to attend to. He felt particularly grateful now as he rocked on the balls of his feet anxiously, carefully monitoring the position of the sun. It took only nine minutes from the time he woke her to the time she emerged from the tent, fully prepared to depart._

_When she approached he had held his hand out to her, "We will be Apparating", he stated simply._

_She shook her head politely, "I can Apparate to wherever we are going on my own"._

_He chuckled, "No you can't. Now take my arm and do not let go until I tell you to. You will die if we are separated, am I clear?"._

_She looked sufficiently frightened and agreed easily. She linked her slender arm through his and took a deep breath to steady herself._

_He smirked, anticipating her reaction, "Close your eyes Bella"._

_They turned on the spot and he concentrated with all he was on their destination, any mistake would spell disaster. The distance was short and almost as soon as he twisted into nothingness his feet touched solid ground again. Success._

_Bellatrix's hand was shaking and locked around his upper arm. He carefully pried her fingers off of his bicep and instead kept a light grip on her wrist._

_"Sit down as carefully as you can", she knelt in the snow obediently._

_"You can look now" he murmured, as he lowered himself beside her._

_It was gratifying to watch her mouth drop open in shock. She let out something between a laugh and an incredulous gasp and her eyes were wide as she delightedly stared out across the sprawl of hundreds of snow-packed peaks._

_"Are we where I think we are?", she sounded breathless._

_"The top of the world", he pointed toward the streaks of red that decorated the sky, "Watch the eastern horizon"._

_The sun began to crest the edge of the panorama, brilliant rays that made the ice all around them glitter. And the jagged rock faces shone like massive shards of broken glass, their cruel forms rising from the crust of the earth to touch the heavens. Radiant blue was breaking overhead and still the bright orb climbed and Bellatrix laughed and stretched out her slender hand as if to hold it._

_He imagined for a moment that she could, like Amaterasu, the Japanese sun goddess. The sphere of light clutched in her small fingers, her nails puncturing the exterior and the energy from within bleeding out, solar flares pouring from the wounds._

_The real Bella turned to him, "Thank you", she said. She looked impossibly happy, the kind that made people cry, though she was stronger than that. The kind of joy that broke the heart because it would not last. He was not sure how to respond because he had never been responsible for that kind of elation._

_So he hid his uncertainty with irony, "Loathe though I am to admit it, even I can't make the sun rise. I only brought you here"._

_She shook her head, "This is just-", words seemed to fail her for a moment, "I have this", she gestured across the landscape, "And you're here...There is nothing else I want"._

_For the briefest of instants his chest ached with something he did not understand, he grimaced and touched his sternum, trying to ward off the foreign sensation._

_This was getting dangerous. They were already closer than they should have been. Most of the time he could force it back, simply tell himself it was because they had been traveling together for so long._

_But here, in this place of ethereal skies, and stark granite, and isolation as far as the eye could see it, and she was so beautiful it was painful...it would be so easy to cross a line..._

_He wanted her, in his mind where no one could hear him he would confess to it. But no one would ever know if he were to have her there on the top of the highest summit either._

_He shook his head, that was a lie, he would know. He would have to face himself knowing he was weak, that he had succumb to the basest of human desires, that he had been stupid enough to let someone come so near._

_He cleared his throat hoping it would alleviate the tension. It didn't. "We can't linger up here long, the atmosphere is only thirty percent of what we're accustomed to"._

_"Oh", her expression fell._

_He wished he hadn't needed to force her back to reality so soon, "See that crater?", he pointed to the bowl shaped basin roughly six thousand feet below, "It's called The Valley of Silence. In several months' time you will see a festival held by the warriors in which they gather in the basin at night with lanterns and chant until dawn"._

_Her brow elevated, "Why would they risk climbing in the dark?"._

_"The locals have no official religion because they worship the mountain, they believe that it contains the origin of life and that they must offer it prayers so it continues to sustain humanity", he explained._

_She looked thoughtful, "Aren't the Tibetans Buddhists?"._

_He sighed, remembering a rather animated lecture from Hama on the matter, "Yes and no, the Buddhists migrated here from India and they are the largest demographic, but the true natives have practiced their faith since before Buddha was born"._

_"What do you believe?"._

_He hadn't ever really considered it. Hama was a practicing Buddhist but had stated directly that Sagarmatha had chosen to let her live forever, which he found hard to believe but he couldn't see any reason for her to lie about it. He was not about to get down on his knees and bow to Siddhartha or Mount Everest, though of the two he held more respect for the latter._

_"I don't know", was the honest answer, "It was never important to me. You?", he inquired._

_"Same, but I can't imagine growing up here and not believing this", she touched the ice beneath her affectionately, "had a life of it's own"._

_"There are many who would say this place is cursed", he considered, "Usually before they freeze to death or fall off a cliff"._

_She picked a fistfull of snow and hurled it over the precipice, "It's a long way down", she mused._

_"Understand why you couldn't just apparate? You would have fared worse than the snowball"._

_She flinched and voiced her agreement. "What about that canyon?", she inclined her head toward the right._

_"The Khumbu Icefall"._

_She mouthed the name slowly, like she was trying to lodge it somewhere permanent._

_"Are you trying to memorize all of this?"._

_"Yes"._

_She had a photographic memory too, what was the point? "Why?"._

_"For Cissy", she explained, "How much more time do we have?"._

_"Approximately five minutes before the pre-frontal lobe loses function and fifteen until loss of consciousness for the average human", he replied calmly._

_Her brow furrowed, "What about you?"._

_"Indefinitely, but I've been taught properly". He remembered his lessons with Hama, one particularly harsh in which she had let him pass out near the southern summit so he would know the warning signs. He looked to the unforgiving spine of the Southern Col, remembered waking just barely balanced on a ledge thousands of feet high, the violence of the wind. He was furious she had done it, but he understood why as well. It was a mistake he was careful not to repeat._

_The mountain from the memory and the ridge glittering innocently in the clear light were night and day. Acharya joked that it was pyramid with two faces._

_"Will you teach me?", she asked, her voice colored by hope._

_"Yes"._

_"And we'll return here?"._

_If he thought he could control himself, "Possibly"._

_With thirty years' experience behind him he could look back and wish they hadn't returned, that she wouldn't have fallen victim to the altitude and the cold, that he wouldn't have learned his limits as they lay waiting out the storm._

_She overwhelmed him, easily, unconsciously, because every response she elicited was new to him. Something as simple as the manner in which she executed a particular Kata, stimuli he wouldn't have ever given a second thought. The range of emotion he found himself to be capable of in that half of a year was startling._

_He shouldn't have agreed, when April came and she begged they scale a route yet untraveled, straight up the scarred wall of the Kangshung face. He shouldn't have but he did, his enchanted mind reassuring him there was nothing to fear, they could simply use magic if they found themselves in danger. What he hadn't counted on was her utter inexperience, too late he realized she had no prior knowledge to combat the delirium induced by the thin atmosphere, nor the developed fortitude to ward off frost bite or the crippling mountain illness known as edema. He was too slow to detect the storm until it was upon them, too slow to snap her out of her fixation with the summit._

_The fury of The Goddess of the Sky was terrible, they were powerless in the face of it. He could not simply Apparate them away, not in a white-out, without knowing where he was going he was most likely to throw them both down the side of the East-Rongbuk glacier. No, they would have to descend step by painful step, or let Sagarmatha claim them._

_It seemed like the span of centuries before he finally, somehow, brought them safely to solid ground. But with nowhere to go escaping Everest was only half the battle, he didn't like how rigid her hand was, locked to his shoulder for support, or the blood on her fingers, brought up by a particularly sharp cough. If they couldn't get her body temperature up to the point that the fluid in her lungs would re-evaporate she was a dead woman walking._

_The monks were too far away, the harder her lungs were forced to work the faster they would deteriorate. It was reversible with proper care, some rest and water and she would be fine, but finding shelter in the remote reaches of Southern Tibet was not like finding it in London, pockets of civilization could literally be hundreds of klicks apart. Hama was completely out of the question, her monastery at over seven thousand meters was not the place to recover from altitude sickness, not to mention unreasonably dangerous because of Ammen._

_North, he knew of establishments to the north, mostly Muggles but as far as anyone was concerned they were just two climbers who had run into bad weather. No need to point out it was because they were scaling the east face without oxygen tanks at triple the average rate of ascent and therefore much higher up on the mountain than any reasonable person would have been in early spring when the storm hit. When they at last stumbled across lodging they had barely made it through the door before the innkeeper took one look at them and said in Burmese, "Trouble on Everest?"._

_He nodded, "We hit a storm at advanced base camp", he lied easily._

_The man scoffed, "That's bullshit, where were you really?"._

_He smirked, sharp this person, "How did you know?"._

_The innkeeper gestured brusquely at Bellatrix, "You weren't at any base camp, not with edema like that, she looks like the ones they drag down off of the col"._

_This man clearly was not easily deceived, he would have to tread carefully, "We were three quarters of the way up the Kangshung face", he confessed. To a similar individual of his native country he would not have admitted to the lie, but of the Tibetans he held a much a higher opinion. Open-minded, and rational, efficient and gracious, these were the citizens of the place in which he found himself for the first time. His true culture, he afforded them the same respect he would offer other wizards._

_Bellatrix, much to his irritation, had required correction on the matter. He had told her, after her perception became evident to him, that insubordination to the warriors, or contempt toward any of this land's inhabitants would not be tolerated. She had become far more receptive to receiving the knowledge they had to offer after he demonstrated how he honored them._

_It was not that he believed in karma, reincarnation, or any mythology surrounding the region. It was the pure and utter lack of prejudice present in their society, magicians were not forced to hide here, those who had possessed such a connection to the world around them were venerated, valued for the rare qualities. Everything had a purpose in their eyes, nothing was without meaning, which the individual made for themselves, taking their fate into their own hands. One of the greatest comforts was to hear the monks speak of things they would see centuries into the future, planning their next lives, and the next, fully believing their existence would span millennia._

_The man chuckled robustly, "I thought you might have been someplace like that", he shook his head, "But the Kangshung face, there's a reason most won't touch it. She's a bitch, no?"._

_Voldemort frowned, Hama had instilled a great deal of respect for Sagarmatha in him and since he had never heard someone speak to the contrary. He wasn't superstitious, but there were times, moments high on the peak where the lack of oxygen reduced consciousness to the point that an older, more primal part of the mind wakened and his instincts were razor sharp, that he sensed there was more to the mountain than simple stone and ice._

_"Rather unpredictable", he agreed reluctantly._

_"But, you don't want to chat now I'm sure", the Tibetan man said, "that girl needs to thaw out!", to this Bellatrix smiled weakly, "You two are fortunate, I have only one room left"._

_He nodded, not really paying attention, he was more focused on the distinctly fluid blocked sound Bellatrix's lungs kept making. If the inn keeper didn't cease his idle prattle he might literally talk her to death. The short man seemed to notice his impatience as he suddenly disappeared into a closet full of worn but neatly stacked boxes and fished out a tarnished little key._

_"This way, please", he nodded toward the staircase off to the right._

_The room revealed itself to be on the upper of six floors, his traveling companion took two steps up the stairs, stopped, and coughed more blood onto the shiny walnut lacquer. The inn keeper flinched, but asked kindly, "Do you need any help getting her up the stairs?"._

_He considered for a moment, then shook his head and lifted a protesting Bellatrix effortlessly off of her feet._

_"Let me know if I need to call in a chopper", the man said, "It takes them a bit to come from Lhasa so if you think there is any chance she needs a hospital speak up fast", with that he disappeared around the corner._

_He looked to the stairs and then back to the girl in his arms. He was strong, probably stronger than he had ever been in his life. But climbing without magic in minus forty weather for the previous twelve hours was no small undertaking and he was exhausted._

_Hence he refused to carry her up six flights of steps, instead he turned on the spot and Dissapparated, hoping her surprised yelp and the resounding crack weren't egregiously noticeable._

_When they rematerialized he examined the landing and saw a series of doors on all sides, each marked with three digits. He lifted the key closer to his face and was able to just barely discern the outline of the long since peeled off numbers 607. A room down a short hallway opposite them was the corresponding location._

_The floorboards creaked as he strode to his destination swiftly, eager to set her down. He jammed the key in the lock as quickly as possible while still supporting his five foot ten inch tall companion, turned it, and shoved the door open._

_The sight that greeted him brought a hiss of some extremely unsavory language to his lips._

_The room was clean and well furnished, it occupied a corner of the building, so two of the four walls were adorned with large windows, from which he could see torrents of snow swirling outside. No doubt when darkness fell they would have a prime view of the lightning certainly brewing not far above their heads. A fire was already lit, diffusing much needed heat into the room, and the incense burning on a glass plate suspended from the ceiling was emitting a rich, earthy smoke._

_All in all he liked it, his qualm was not with the quality of their accommodations._

_It was the fact that there was only one bed._

_The logical part of his mind had already reasoned that the fastest way to reverse the effects of cold was to share body heat, which he was in no short supply of, his metabolic rate was abnormally fast and as a side affect he ran two and a half degrees above standard. Acharya had taken one look at him, pressed his calloused palm to his forehead and informed him that his natural element was fire. He had simply nodded and wished he had known that when he had been twelve and attempting to explain to Madam Pomfrey that no, he most certainly did not have a fever._

_Given that, he was well aware that the most efficient course of action would be to remove their clothing and instead insulate themselves as a collective unit. Subsequently raising her core body temperature without the need of slower methods such as hot water, or risking waiting until enough of his energy had returned that he could help her by magical means._

_While it all sounded clinical in theory, it didn't erase the shock of abruptly realizing that they would be sharing that particular space (which looked entirely too inviting covered in a deep red duvet and piled with more pillows than one could ever actually need), and his restraint was hanging by a thread._

_He tried very hard not to look at her as he set her on the bed and turned his back to begin working at the fastenings on his parka. Perhaps the proper thing to do would have been to retreat to the bathroom to undress himself, but he would only have to return anyway, so there was no point. The dense, black, fabric fell away easily and without pausing to give himself time to think he reached for the zipper at his throat and tugged it down with more force than was strictly necessary._

_The sweater parted, and his skin contracted as it was exposed to the comparatively cooler air of the room. As he extracted his arms from the sleeves he chanced a glance over his shoulder at Bellatrix. Her face was crinkled in confusion, at his actions or demeanor he could not tell._

_His voice was hoarse as he said, "Don't tell me you haven't been told how to get rid of hypothermia"._

_Her brow shot up, and her mouth fell open. He snorted at her expression, "My thoughts exactly", and it would have seemed as if he truly found the situation amusing if he had managed to look her in the eye during a single word._

_He turned his attention back to the task at hand, sitting on the edge of the bed to unlace his boots. From somewhere behind him he heard her jacket fall to the floor and his fingers shook slightly as he undid his snow pants and slipped them off. Control, he reminded himself, this was nothing he couldn't handle._

_As if the universe heard him and wished to make a point to the contrary at that moment he caught her shirt joining her other clothing in the pile on the ground out of the corner of his vision. He forced back a shudder, he would not let himself be weak, he refused, mind over matter._

_The coverlet shifted beneath him and he heard her slide beneath the blankets, he took a deep breath to steady himself and rose to his full height in nothing but his underclothing. The way she was looking at him certainly wasn't helping matters as he pulled back the covers on the side she wasn't occupying and joined her under the blankets._

_It wasn't as difficult as he thought it would be, he couldn't see anything out of the ordinary and she seemed to have stopped staring at him like she wanted nothing more than for him to break and do something ...utterly inappropriate..._

_But she wasn't going to recover if he lay there contemplating their position all night, with all the caution he could summon he reached for her and all thoughts of anything remotely risque immediately left his mind, "Merlin, you're cold", he gasped. It was like clutching an ice block to his chest._

_"Am I? I hadn't noticed", she fired back dryly and shivered her way closer, teeth chattering all the while._

_His eyes narrowed, "You look ridiculous", he shared, knowing it would provoke her. Maybe if they kept up like this her energy would back sooner and he would stay distracted until he could fall asleep._

_"Hypocrite", she taunted as she reached up and brushed icicles out of his hair, he wiped the frost off of his nose irritably and narrowed his eyes at her. Because this was required for her survival did not grant permission for her to take liberties with his personal space._

_And so they continued in that manner as the last of the daylight faded from the sky and the incense burned it's self out overhead. Wariness was overtaking him when he was met with the realization that he had actually made it through the evening without incident._

_An almighty roar of thunder woke him. He drew in a ragged breath at the sheer onslaught of stimuli that he met as awareness returned to him._

_The storm that had found them on the mountain was raging in full force, forks of lightning split the sky in rapid succession, and booming concussions shook the building, making the structure sway._

_And it absolutely paled in comparison to the sensation of the slight form pressed against him. The illness had gone and now she slept like the dead, warm and female, flush to his body. Wholly unaware as he grappled with a vicious desperation, the evidence of which was trapped between them, rigid against the curvature of her hip bone. Her flat abdomen brushing against his clothed member with every breath she drew._

_His breath came in rough gasps, his fingers clenching and unclenching against the mattress as if to grasp some remaining shred of sanity that was not there. He had been deluding himself, when he thought that he could endure this, and now he was paying the price._

_This was the absolute brink of his will-power, a place he had never been, where need drove away anything resembling reason. She shifted slightly, inciting decadent friction, incomparable softness rested more fully against his chest and he realized her breast was entirely bare. Had he been in his right mind he would have wondered why she was not wearing her undergarments, as it was he bit back an obscene sound and clamped his eyes shut._

_He needed...something...he was a stranger to this, he wasn't even certain what his body was asking for. But it was craving something urgently._

_Independent of his will his hips rolled against hers, his hand found purchase on her slender thigh, she groaned softly and he looked to see her waking. Her eyes fluttered open and she regarded their position with confusion, for a moment shame flashed through him at being caught..._

_A flash of understanding passed over her expression as she no doubt felt him against the flat of her stomach._

_And then her hand came up and soothed over his face gently, "It's alright", she coaxed._

_He needed no further encouragement, not in his state. Next he knew the graceful column of her throat was smooth under his mouth, the silk flesh muffling his exclamation as she reached down and freed him from what little clothing he wore. The unintentional brushes of her fingers against his sensitized skin were enough to leave him panting against her shoulder._

_If this was wrong he was too far gone to care, for the first time in his life his mind had gone silent, he was nothing but blind impulse and lust that had been denied far too long. His eyes widened as she lowered herself over him, so her face was parallel with the organ pulsing eagerly in her hand, wetted her lips..._

_Oh God…her mouth... A choked cry forced it's way out as her tongue rasped languidly up the underside of his shaft. Dampness and heat engulfed him as she sucked, repeatedly drawing him in._

_He decided the other side of sanity was a place he should have visited far sooner, was this what he had been so afraid of? It seemed laughable now._

_The sensations racing through him were exquisite, and yet, even in his ignorance it seemed not enough. He touched her shoulder to still her and she released him with a slick sort of pop that would have left anyone with even a small modicum of modesty horrified and all he could wonder was what would the parents who had entrusted her to him think if they could see them now?_

_They certainly wouldn't have been so willing to leave her in his care if they knew she was draped over him, naked, her full lips glittering with the evidence of his excitement. But he could feel no regret, only the need to burn himself irrevocably into her memory. He knew for a fact that her experience was as minuscule as his own, but not after this night, and he would possess her in a way no one else ever could._

_He rolled over, to lie above her, across the width of the bed. Her legs parted to accommodate him as he settled between her thighs, crushing his lips to hers to prevent a moan, that escalated into a scream when he pressed himself against her entrance, from waking the whole building. A vicious heat was pooling rapidly in the pit of his stomach and she called out again and rocked upward, straining to take him in..._

_"S-stop", he gasped suddenly._

_He pulled away with agonizing difficulty, shaking harder than he ever had in his life. Everything was still surreal, his senses still in overdrive, but he forced himself to dress haphazardly and bolt from the room. He risked a glance at her as he went and saw her expression was sad and thoroughly confused. Then he wrenched the door shut behind him and rapidly made his way to the comparative safety of the lobby._

_Had he lost his mind? Given what had just happened it seemed so. Months of careful self-control to avoid something like this and for what?...so he could lose his composure like some common fool..._

_Off of the main entrance there was a room with a table and a few soft but slightly dilapidated chairs facing the fireplace. The fire appeared to have gone out and the innkeeper was nowhere to be found and so he drew his wand from his pant-pocket and flicked it in the direction of the grate. A flame crackled to life, instantly providing light to the dim space._

_He collapsed into a high backed arm chair and buried his face in his trembling hands. He did not need this complication in his life. Particularly not where this girl was concerned, not after seeing how easily she could make his emotions run away with him._

_It was not lust for it's own sake that he feared...though there was plenty of it, even now he wished nothing more than to return to the room and finish what he had started...it was the power she held over him because he had grown to care for her._

_To let another control him like that, however unconsciously it may be, he couldn't allow it. He had worked too long and too hard to become something more than human, he would not simply abandon that path now._

_He was frightened of himself, of what he might do. For all of his conviction the instant she was close passion overpowered anything like reason and he acted in ways not even he understood._ _He had to find a way to remove the temptation before it destroyed him, even if it was difficult and painful, even if he did not want to. It must be done, he couldn't live in such a manner any longer._

_Trying to ignore his every instinct screaming at him to stop he opened the drawer embedded into the side of the table and dug out a piece of parchment and a pen._

_He considered, her parents had seemed rather intent on marrying her off, to the point that they had worried if she came away to train with him her age would make it harder to find her a husband, perhaps it was time to grant their wish. Surely if she belonged to someone else he could stay away, propriety would demand he keep his distance, and maybe, with time, these strange feelings would fade._

_He knew of a man who had expressed interest in his cause that was only a few years older than Bellatrix, he seemed competent and his blood ran as blue as any prince's, her family would certainly approve the match. As would his, the name Black was well known, she could have secured a marriage into any family she chose, between her lineage and her beauty any man would be thrilled to have her for a wife._

_An embittered smile tugged at his lips at that, if they thought that they were receiving a model pureblood woman they were in for a nasty surprise. Bellatrix could not, nor would she ever be, content as someone's housewife. Would this man understand that about her as he did? With any luck he would, and would come to appreciate her other attributes in spite of it. He bit down again on his torn lower lip._

_As much as he loathed how binding personal attachments were, he did not want to contemplate that she would find happiness with someone else, nor think that they would ever share quite the same bond. He was selfish, and possessive, and unapologetic about either, he wanted to believe no matter who she might wed he would always own her heart. He wanted to know that this was as difficult for her as it was for him, that try as she might she could never replace him._

_Even though he would forfeit the right to those things._

_With a grim determination and a white knuckled grip he bent over the parchment._

_And he wrote the letter to Rodolphus Lestrange._

_He had never, ever, believed anyone when they told him to be careful what he wished for. Not until he had returned to London, to the house of the swines whose blood he was unfortunate enough to possess, and eager confirmation came from both families. A smart match, they had complimented._

_He lost count of how many times she wrote him. Ten? Twenty? Did it matter? He never even opened the letters, choosing instead to incinerate them so there would be no chance he could consider whatever she might say._

_The following five months were a strange time for him. He kept himself extremely busy, mostly learning, pushing out irrational emotion, memories; taking in knowledge. 'Remember who you are', he had told himself constantly, 'this is how it must be'._

_Despite his determination not to dwell on things, he felt no inclination to put himself in any situation that might force him to fully realize what he had done, namely he did not wish to hear anything regarding wedding plans, as a result he kept to himself a great deal. He did receive an invitation, not from her, but from Cygnus, given that they had him to thank for the 'happy event' it would have caused quite a stir if he attempted to decline._

_'Just congratulate them and get out' he repeated the plan like a mantra. Don't feel, don't think, just pretend for a little while, then leave._

_He almost made it without having to see her, but he was caught in a conversation with Abraxas Malfoy at the last moment and could not depart without drawing quite a lot of attention to himself when the crowd went quiet and the proceedings began._

_The spectacle she made coming down the aisle was one that would crop up in conversation at nearly every wedding he was required to attend in the next decade. At each mention he declined to share he was wholly responsible for it._

_When they had stopped in Varanasi, the Hindu's holy city of Shiva the Destroyer, where they believed the waters of the Ganges River healed the weak and dying, they had chanced by a shop with a garment displayed in the window._

_"What is that for?", Bella had asked, wide-eyed, well adjusted at that point to the fact that no one in this part of the world dressed up without a compelling reason._

_The dress was white, designed simply to flow in straight, classical lines from the strapless top to the ground. The pale satin was adorned with all manner of intricate gold jewelry, he could tell from the look on her face she loved it._

_He sighed, "It's a wedding dress"._

_Her expression lost a little of it's luster, "I suppose I don't have an excuse then", she said regretfully._

_He did not offer another comment, not because he had any particular problem with her liking the thing, he couldn't care less what he looked like and even he could tell it was appealing. This was simply a topic outside his realm of knowledge._

_Eight months later he would have it sent to her from his seclusion in London, in a rare fit of guilt, hoping the gift would ease his conscience so it would finally let go of the matter._

_He had not realized the the Lestrange family had also sent her something to wear, which he would later learn was the cause of the audience stirring so much when she emerged looking for all the world like one of the Sanskrit goddesses come to life._

_The overall effect was startlingly beautiful, without interference from bulkier clothing each slender curve was readily apparent. The shimmering gold left in her skin by the Tibetan sun was radiant next to the comparative pallor of the fabric and the many bangles and delicate chains emphasized a grandeur. Her face, though just as sad as it had been when he left abruptly that night, was lovely framed by dark hair that had grown all the way out to her waist, though much of it was currently either twisted up into the headdress or draped over her shoulder._

_This was the path he had chosen, long ago, and up until recently had never strayed from it. He would not, would not, abandon that simply because it invoked some unwarranted sense of melancholy that a pretty girl he had befriended was getting married to someone else._

_When he had first begun learning under Hama she had insisted he undergo the same teachings as all who joined the monastery, mythology included. He refused to say "spiritual" because that acknowledged the sanctity of the soul, which he did not believe in. This included a vast number of stories and mantras in the original tibetan. He recalled that those who had studied alongside him had been angry because of how quickly he had been permitted to progress through his lessons, but what they saw was not favoritism as they believed. It was the blessing of natural advantage, he had looked upon their jealousy with amusement._

_Now, for the first time, he let words flow through his mind, words that echoed in Hama's voice, that came easily to the lips of the students who passed through her door, asking to call forth solace from somewhere within himself. To retreat to a place where life could pass by like rain over the cliffs when the monsoons came and touched the valley below._

_He closed his eyes against reality, it does not matter, beautiful and ancient syllables to lock away whatever emotion he had left, to say those four simple words, it does not matter._

_How many times must one repeat a phrase in order to believe it?_

_How much damage could come of a lie? And who bore the brunt of it?…He was never certain…But he knew the tangible cost exacted..._

_The "might have been", that had been the price for the second visit._

_"I miss it", she acknowledged. He could see her fighting with herself, torn between her pride and what she loved so dearly._

_"I know you want to say yes Bella", he coaxed, "You could see it, everyday, the monks, the lake, Sagarmatha herself close enough to touch. You would never have to leave, you could call it home"._

_His words were having the desired effect, he could practically watch her resolve evaporating away. No one could resist the pull of the Himalaya, not even he. If he were granted a second life he would exist among them as Hama did._

_"I want to see them one more time", she conceded._

_'I want to die there', was the unspoken meaning._

_"Then go", he urged._

_But she would not die, not this visit, no matter what Bellatrix chose to believe, Hama and the mountains would heal her. Their magic was far too strong to fail._

_She nodded slowly, "Do you think she can save someone who brought it upon them self?", he was wasn't sure if 'she' meant Hama or Everest._

_He laughed bitterly, "I was never one for unfounded faith, dear protegee, you know that"._

_"You aren't, are you, she agreed readily._

_This was going far better than he had anticipated, perhaps she had finally come to her senses, "Are you able to travel?", he pressed._

_She wrapped her arms around herself as if to make sure she was still in one piece, "I think so", she muttered, she didn't sound very certain._

_"Next week then, yes?", this would work, he could feel it, this would work._

_Her eyes darted back and forth rapidly, looking leagues away, he thought he saw guilt, but perhaps it was only fear, "I'll go"._

_He could tell that she was lying...but he would ensure it happened regardless._

* * *

_**Three down, one more to go : )**  
_


	8. Chapter 8

_**Finally! The last portion of The Chapter Formerly Know as Five. This too will likely be revised, I feel like there are portions in which I could have expressed myself better than I did.**_

_**A small warning for mild violence.**_

_**I do not own Harry Potter.**_

* * *

_**Weapon, Chapter Eight: Mr̥tyu dara aura bhāgya, Mortality and Fate**_

_He was sprawled across a sofa in the Malfoy's great room, deeply immersed in a book roughly four centuries in age concerning the nature of binding magical contracts when Narcissa found him._

_She cleared her throat and rapped twice on the frame of the open door, then without awaiting a response and to his great irritation, she seated herself on the chair immediately adjacent to him, "My Lord", she greeted._

_"I'm busy", he called back coldly. Did she not grasp that others had thoughts not related to social gatherings and family matters, ones that actually required concentration._

_"My Lord, please...", she persisted._

_"Narcissa, please", he mimicked, trying to illustrate to her how pathetic she sounded._

_When she opened her mouth to speak again he accepted the fact that he was going to have to be a bit more forceful if he wanted to get back to learning exactly what would become of him once...once Ammen voided the contract..._

_He tossed the book aside and sat up with an ill-tempered groan, "Fine, allow me to guess what you want", he ground out, "You want me to excuse your son's failure, yet again, because you've coddled him to the point that he can't do anything correctly on his own"._

_Her lips pursed and he saw her eyes tighten at the corners but she still managed a calm shake of her head._

_He shrugged, "Oh, your miserable excuse for a husband then", he amended._

_He was fully aware that he was being cruel in the worst way, his feelings about Lucius' dependability were already well known, but one simply didn't insult Draco in front of her._

_Bellatrix had told him once long ago that Narcissa had always wanted a big family with many progeny for her to dote upon. However she and Lucius had experienced great difficulty conceiving and it had been declared highly unlikely they would succeed again after their son was born._

_As a result the Malfoys were outrageously protective of the boy. Recently there had been friction between Draco and his mother because she was struggling to come to terms with the fact that she simply could not be there to help him at every turn. From the outside it was obvious he was desperate to get out from under her wing, but she didn't seem to realize she was smothering him._

_He must have come to Bellatrix for help because she had asked one day if there were any longer duration missions he would be willing to let a seventeen-year-old take on._

_"He can't grow with her hovering over him like that", she had explained, "He needs to go learn how to depend on himself"._

_He agreed, no one truly realized their full potential until they were forced to use it, and frankly he was tired of fixing the adolescent's mistakes. He'd had to get a bit inventive but eventually he'd come up with an assignment that took him as far east as Germany but had a comparatively larger margin for error._

_Narcissa had been irate when she learned that Draco would be traveling alone for six weeks. But the boy had been noticeably pleased, as the others filed from the room after the meeting he saw him lean over and whisper to his aunt, "Thank you"._

_Bellatrix had shaken her head, "It's not me you should thank", she inclined her head in his direction. The child had stared at him wide-eyed for a moment, then very tentatively he rose and made his way over to kneel before him._

_"Thank you My Lord", he had said with a surprising degree of sincerity. He saw Bellatrix struggling not to smile from over her nephew's shoulder and smirked despite himself._

_"Don't make me regret it", he had answered flatly and excused him to leave._

_He had done much for the Malfoys, more than he should have, particularly given what they thought of him. Even if he hadn't read their minds the abhorrence with which they regarded his methods was evident in their every expression, they were poor liars. Poor liars, but despite his inclination to show them just how horrifying he could be, he had thought he needed them for the sake of appearance._

_But he was waiting out his own execution now! He reserved the right to be unreasonable and moreover, given that in two weeks' time it wouldn't really matter if these people were willing to obey or not, he found himself far more prone to voicing his true opinion._

_"Either way it doesn't matter Narcissa", he continued, "Be honest, you don't fear for them, you fear for their loss so you won't have to learn how to live for yourself"._

_He stood and began to pace the perimeter of the room, his fingers catching the folds of the heavy drapes that blocked the windows. Suddenly he found the lack of light infuriating and without a second thought he gripped the one to his immediate right roughly and pulled as hard as he could._

_The material came away from the rod with a satisfying rip, he laughed and reached for the next one._

_"What are you doing?", Narcissa burst out, unable to contain herself as he destroyed the priceless, embroidered, fabric one window at a time._

_"I need to see the sky" he replied distractedly. Sun poured in over him, why were they always closed? They lived in the dark, all of them, like pretending they didn't see would make the miseries of life go away._

_"I came to talk to you about my sister", she called out, evidently hoping that would snap him out of his current state before he broke some other meaningless object._

_Did she automatically assume that because he was partial to her sister anything concerning their...relationship?...that was probably the correct term...took precedence over all else? That was just like her though, believing everything revolved around personal matters. She couldn't contemplate half of what he was having to come to terms with, the fact that he would be dead by this time week after next, and that he had to be very careful that he set the groundwork for Bellatrix and Hama to assume the power he held so Ammen could not take it. He had to ensure Bellatrix would even live long enough to take up that role because, his confused feelings aside, Hama simply wasn't strong enough to stand against Their Leader on her own._

_To top it all off he had to conceal the fact that he was preparing to die from everyone. Bella included. She already seemed so certain her own end loomed not far off into the future and telling her he would not, could no longer, be a part of it was not going to help matters. The others had told him what happened to her when she thought he was dead before, he couldn't risk that she would do something rash again, not if there was any chance she could recover. It was his great hope that Hama could talk her around quickly enough that he could at least learn the name and cause of her mysterious affliction._

_But maybe she would have told Narcissa. If she had it would be far easier to get the information out of her sister than Bella herself._

_He forced himself to adopt a calmer veneer and tipped his head to the side as if she had only just piqued his curiosity, "I'm listening", he said._

_Her expression warmed slightly at his cooperation. This was sickeningly easy, if he played the part of concerned lover correctly he sensed she would reveal anything he asked. He reminded himself to discuss Bellatrix's choices in confidants with her later._

_"She insisted I not tell you this", she sighed heavily, as if this were difficult. He fought the childish urge to roll his eyes, if all she had on her conscience was betrayal her life had been a veritable walk in the park._

_"Tell me what?", he pressed. He wished she would cease the theatrics and just cut to the point._

_The door burst open at that moment and Lucius all but skidded to a halt in front of them, the instructions not to show his face until expressly told to do so apparently forgotten._

_Had everybody simply decided at once that they didn't have to listen to him anymore? For Merlin's sake he did not need this right now..._

_"What the hell do you think you are doing Lucius?", he inquired softly._

_The blond man looked startled, at his too-gentle tone or the muggle curse he couldn't be sure, but it was perversely gratifying to watch him recoil at his mere whisper. At least he could still get a predictable reaction out of someone. He didn't like it when hidden parts of personalities came out, it left him feeling as if he had overlooked something. His very life depended on vigilance, if he did not have that he was as good as...well, he was as good as dead regardless but that was beside the point._

_"Forgive me, I only-", he cut him off._

_"No"._

_"My Lord?", Malfoy questioned, half curled in on himself as if that might offer protection._

_"I said no Lucius", he snapped, very suddenly furious with the man for simultaneously being so spineless and existing, "I don't believe you are familiar with the term, spoiled little ingrate that you are, it means you can't have what you want. Try to grasp that Lucius, some of us must make difficult decisions, horrible decisions, choices that would make someone like you sick, some of us sacrifice our desires because it must be done"._

_"Please, I just-", the blond attempted a second time._

_He laughed, no amusement, just hatred and incredulity that he was stupid enough to continue to speak, "See, you continue to misunderstand", he reached out rapidly and shoved Malfoy hard enough his back slammed into the wall behind him, pressed the tip of the Elder Wand against his throat, effectively paralyzing him, "I don't care about you Lucius", he hissed, baring his teeth, "I don't care about you, and I no longer care about your reputation, or your influence, or your money. You don't even see your own weakness but believe it when I say that the rest of us can and it is ugly indeed". It seemed that even before he had consciously chosen to the Cruciatus flowed from him easily and the shorter man screamed._

_"Fight back Lucius", he whispered._

_Malfoy's hands had gone white, clawed against the door, his expression contorted grotesquely, but he just barely shook his head._

_"That wasn't a request. Fight back!", even for the existence an aristocrat led this man was too soft. He had been in Lucius' position before, the man had been dead before he hit the ground._

_Malfoy fell to his knees, but stammered, "Please...the boy...he broke into...took...cup"._

_He actually dropped his wand, blood running cold. Lucius took a series of deep gulps of air and sat back against the wall, rubbing at his neck._

_Potter must know then, about the Horcruxes…it mattered not how, or what, or why...only that this was a worst case scenario and if he did not right it quickly the consequences would be disastrous._

_The boy would have to die, forget the plan to offer him to Ammen, if the child killed him before he could put everything in place all of his work would be undone. He had to die today, he couldn't lose any more time..._

_"How do you know this?", he demanded._

_"Goblins", Lucius replied all too willing, "They allowed the break-in"._

_"So eager to spill the blood of others for your own sake", he stooped and reclaimed the Elder Wand, the magic felt restless within it, "Are they here?"._

_The worn-looking aristocrat confirmed that the vault keepers had come in person, that they were waiting downstairs._

_Ammen would want them dead anyway, because they had come into contact with the Horcrux. While it was in Bella's vault and he might be willing to lie on her behalf, the same couldn't be said of a handful of beings he had never met. He would need to make it fast too, the longer they waited to mobilize the more likely it became that irreversible damage would be done._

_"Unbeatable weapon", he ran the tip of his finger down the polished spires of the relic he wielded, "Show me your bloodlust", he whispered._

_"My Lord?", Malfoy implored._

_"Gather all who are willing to come", he instructed rapidly, fighting hard to keep the anxiety out of his voice, "any allies you know of. Tell them we will converge on Hogwarts in two hours"._

_It was Narcissa who asked "Why?", befuddlement written all over her face._

_Because if Potter had managed to break into Gringotts the fortifications he had placed around the others would not have stopped him. The only location more protected than the bank was Hogwarts, and he would know if the boy had been sighted there, which he had not. But it was the logical next step, so he must conclude that his opportunity would come soon, he could not afford to waste that rare moment of vulnerability before the boy disappeared back into the countryside._

_"Potter will be there, I will deal with him when he arrives", he explained with no small degree of impatience, "Now go. Send the goblins in on your way out"._

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_**Thank you everyone for your continued readership : )**  
_


	9. Chapter 9

_**Author's Note**_

_**I know I haven't updated this in a while but don't worry, I'm not about to announce this story discontinued.**_

_**I've decided to go back and work through the existing chapters and make improvements. There are things (particularly in the first few chapters) that I've been wanting to improve for quite some time. Additionally, as you will have seen I've chosen to separate Chapter 5 into four distinct pieces. As much as I liked the idea of everything tying in together almost twenty thousand for one chapter is ridiculous.**_

_**I'm sorry this isn't actually new material. Hopefully I will be able to publish something truly new in the upcoming months.**_

_**Thank you everyone for your reviews and readership. Special thanks to my beta Inkfire who has been fantastic to work with and edited that entire mammoth of a chapter.**_


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